


Luster

by Eva Grimm (elusivetruth)



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Aquaphobia, Based on CYOA restrictions, Claustrophobia, Endbringers, F/F, F/M, Hate Speech, Japanese Character(s), POV First Person, Pissed off ABB, Pissed off E88, Serious, Shaker power, Slice of Life, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, ferrokinetic, not a self-insert, slice of life but serious plot too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 207,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24316036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusivetruth/pseuds/Eva%20Grimm
Summary: June Fujiwara has been forced to move to Brockton Bay after the untimely death of her single mother. A young thief who has basically raised herself until now, she's suddenly being forced to grow up while grappling with recently gained superpowers... not to mention the gangs she pissed off getting them. At least she's got the city's lone crew of mercenaries at her back to help her along the way.
Comments: 94
Kudos: 56





	1. Penny 1.1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading Worm fanfiction for ages, and I've always had an itch to write a fic as well. No inspiration really struck me though, so I never really got around to it. A friend recently introduced me to CYOAs (which I somehow managed to never really notice all this time), and though I had no interest in doing a self-insert, the concept and my first roll on Weaverdice's random power generator kickstarted this idea, and I just had to write it.
> 
> This is being simultaneously posted on multiple sites. Beta credit goes to my friend, RoiledJelly, and my partner, who suffers through me reading these chapters aloud, complete with gesticulation and randomly inserted musings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word of advice: June, the main character of his story, is intentionally written to be grating in the first arc because this story is—in part—about growing up and becoming a better person. She begins getting better as the second arc progresses because of the bonds she starts to form with her teammates. I recommend you give the story until the end of the second arc to make up your mind about its protagonist.

_Damn, is this really it?_ I thought to myself as I stared at the worn down building and the dreary brass letters affixed to its exterior labeling it as ‘Winslow High School.’ The obvious wear and tear on the building wasn’t any worse than my old school, at least from what little of its campus I could see from inside my cousin’s car, but I’d expected something... _more_ , I guess, from a big city school. Also, probably less graffiti.  
  
“This is a really, really stupid idea, Jake.”  
  
“June,” I muttered, absently, as I examined a red and black tag in the form of an ‘E88.’ I vaguely recognized it from my attempts to research Brockton Bay after I found out I would be moving here, but there was only so much I could learn from the few times I could get to the library after Mom killed herself. I thought this one was related to nazis in some way, and I could still barely wrap my head around the idea that actual, real people in Brockton Bay still clung to nazi ideology in the 21st century. Madness.  
  
“Jake...”  
  
“Are you deaf or just dumb?” I said, finally turning to face my cousin, Masuyo, while studiously ignoring the frustration and hurt written plainly across her face. “My name is June.”  
  
She seethed but said nothing. I shrugged, unbuckled my seatbelt, and opened the car door.  
  
“June, please.” I turned back to look at her. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly enough they shook, and she was giving me a grim look, her brown eyes looking haunted. “I know this is... important to you, but this isn’t New York. You don’t understand what Brockton Bay is like. The Empire, they might _kill_ you over this.”  
  
_Why does she even care?_ I wondered. I wanted to ask her, but it was too awkward. We hadn’t met before I moved into her apartment on Saturday—she said we met once or twice when I was baby, but that doesn’t count as far as I’m concerned—and she hadn’t said then why she was taking me in either. If the Brockton Bay University memorabilia and nursing textbooks haphazardly strewn about her apartment were any indication, then she was in the middle of nursing school. She had to be under financial pressure from that, so why did she take me in when nobody else in the family did?  
  
“I have to,” I lamely replied after the silence between us began to grow uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to say, _Some things are worth dying for_ , but that sounded way too corny—I could never say it aloud.  
  
She released a soft sigh and tucked an errant strand of black hair behind her ear as she reached down for her purse, her low tied hair slipping over her shoulder with the movement. After a moment of fumbling around, she pulled out a cell phone and held it out to me. When I stared at it incredulously and didn’t take it, she leaned over and shoved it at my chest. “It can only do the basics,” she explained as I finally took the cell phone. “Not a lot of data, sorry—can’t afford it. I have my night classes after work, which is why I can only drive you here today, so use that to look up the bus routes home after school. My number is in there too. I probably can’t answer calls, but if you text me, I’ll try to reply. The, uh, PRT number is in there too, if you run into any trouble.”  
  
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I shoved it into the front pocket of my backpack. More students were starting to arrive, and I glanced at the dashboard’s clock. “Gotta go. Thanks for the ride and ominous warnings of my imminent death.”  
  
Before Masuyo could reply to that, I slipped out the still open car door and threw it closed. I quickly stalked away from the car and slid into a mass of students departing from a nearby school bus. Unfortunately my plan to hide out of sight resulted, predictably if I was being honest, in me running into someone and causing them to stumble.  
  
“Shit, sorry,” I groaned as I grabbed a hold of the girl before she could fall. Only once she was upright again did I notice she was wearing a black halter top with some kind of esoteric design made of criss crossing neon orange and green lines over a torn pair of denim shorts and purple tights, the latter matching a dyed streak in her hair. It was easily the most eclectic, loud outfit I had seen in some time, and I had absolutely no idea how she wasn’t cold, since it was an unseasonably cold, overcast day.  
  
“Enjoying the view?”  
  
I blushed a bit, not having meant to stare, but she didn’t look offended. If anything, she seemed to preen a bit at the attention. Still, I didn’t want to give her the wrong impression, so I quipped, “Eh, I don’t swing that way, sorry.”  
  
Her eyebrows shot up. “That right? Props for being bold about it.”  
  
_Bold…? Oh, right. Literal gang of nazis. I guess lesbian jokes probably don’t go over well._ “Being a wallflower’s never been my thing.” I made to leave, but I frowned and stopped when a thought occurred to me. “Actually, do you know how to get to the office? It’s my first day. I need to get my schedule and what all.”  
  
She stared at me for a moment, and I idly noticed the number of students loitering outside had begun to dwindle. After a few seconds, she shrugged, “Sure, I guess. C’mon, man.”  
  
I grit my teeth at that but tried to contain my annoyance. “I’m a girl,” I groused and promptly walked straight into my guide when she stopped in her tracks.  
  
After preventing her from falling _again_ , she turned around and examined me from head to foot, leaving me feeling suddenly self-conscious, especially of my lack of feminine curves and my still pretty short hair. I wasn’t worried about my clothes though, since most of my wardrobe was good quality, and I’d worn the best of the lot today: A red, corded turtleneck, bootcut jeans, black boots, and a gray jacket. All of it stolen, of course. My entire wardrobe was, since I’d only been able to skim so much of Mom’s money over the summer without giving up the game when she couldn’t afford her heroin, and I’d been saving all of that for the stuff I couldn’t steal.  
  
“Huh.”  
  
I tilted my head. “‘Huh?’” I parroted.  
  
She stared at me a bit longer, not saying anything, before eventually shrugging. “My bad,” she flippantly declared before turning on her heel and starting towards the school again.  
  
“Moving on then,” I mumbled, more or less mollified, and moved to follow.  
  
Once we were inside Winslow, I realized that I could, in fact, be more disappointed with the school. No matter where I looked, I saw some sign of gang activity. Like outside, there were plenty of tags littering the halls on both the walls and lockers, which frankly surprised me. You would think the staff would remove them. _Maybe they just go right back up, so they stopped bothering?_ There were obvious gang members too. Plenty of guys with buzzed away hair who were probably part of the nazi gang, and there were lots of Asians wearing red and green—the colors of the ABB, the Azn Bad Boys.  
  
That gang I had made a point to study a bit, once I’d managed to overcome my initial astonishment that any serious gang would have such a ridiculous moniker. Despite my cousin’s worries, I thought I might be able to fly under the radar of the nazis, but a gang that was notorious for aggressive recruitment of anybody with Asian heritage? Yeah, I figured I would need to be very careful to avoid them, since I was half Japanese. That meant I needed to avoid anybody dressed like it was Christmas.  
  
We eventually arrived at the office, and my escort gestured broadly at it. “Well, here you go. Catch you later, newbie.”  
  
I did my best to take a calm, steadying breath as she left, trying to steel myself for explaining matters for a second time... People were always all weird about it. _Dammit, this sucked enough the first time around..._  
  
I walked through the propped open door and made my way over to the secretary, a woman with a somewhat frazzled appearance. Once I was standing in front of her desk, she spared me a brief glance before returning her eyes to her monitor. “What do you need?”  
  
_Bit rude..._ “I’m here to get my schedule. Today’s my first day.”  
  
“Name?”  
  
“June Fujiwara.”  
  
She moved her mouse and clicked on a few things, her eyes dancing back and forth across the screen. Eventually she frowned. “Jacob Fujiwara?”  
  
“I don’t use that name. My name is June—Juniper, if we’re being formal.”  
  
For the first time since I walked into the office, the secretary gave me her full attention. With a frown, she turned to face me and asked, “Come again? ‘Don’t use that name’?”  
  
I opened my mouth to reply, but the door to the principal’s office opened, drawing my attention. “Is the Fujiwara boy here yet? I have that meeting in ten minutes, and I won’t be able to delay it.”  
  
“Well... This is—”  
  
“Hello,” I interjected, doing my best to contain my ire. “I’m June Fujiwara, and I’m actually _not_ a boy. Easy mistake to make, what with the ‘male’ on my birth certificate and all.”  
  
It probably wasn’t the best way to introduce myself to the principal of my new school, but _damn_ the looks on their faces were priceless. Solid gold.  
  
“I... see,” the principal eventually said. I was actually somewhat impressed. She looked absolutely incredulous, but her words were pretty even, all things told. Probably could have hidden her reaction, if this had been a phone call. It wasn’t though, obviously, so no brownie points for her. “That... wasn’t in your file from your old school.”  
  
“I came out at the beginning of the school year earlier this month, then Mom... well, you know. Probably forgot to put it in there.”  
  
“Mr. Fu—”  
  
“Ms.”  
  
She pinched the bridge of her nose. Yeah, no poker face at all. Also, she must not have read my school file carefully enough if she thinks this is as bad as I get. “ _Ms_. Fujiwara... I believe you may not understand your predicament.”  
  
“Pretty sure I do.”  
  
“ _Be that as it may_ , we need to have a discussion before you go to classes. I have a meeting in—” she glanced at the watch on her wrist and tsk’d “—seven minutes, and it truly cannot be pushed back. Please have a seat, and we will talk after.”  
  
_I might get to skip first period on my first day? Luuucky_ , I thought with a small smile as I took a seat. My enthusiasm quickly dimmed, however when it hit me that, since I was still stuck waiting in the office, I had nothing to do. I toyed with my new phone for ten minutes before deciding it was probably best to not blow all my data on day one, so I turned to the sole other source of entertainment in the room.  
  
“So. Ms. Secretary Lady.”  
  
She gave me an unimpressed look and tapped on the nameplate on her desk.“I have a name.”  
  
“Fancy that, I do too. It’s June,” I couldn’t help but quip, purposefully ignoring the plate. She’d yet to use mine, so I wasn’t going to use hers. “Speaking of names, I’m blanking on one. What does that gang of nazi weirdos call itself again?”  
  
“What... How... You really don’t even know who they _are_?”  
  
“That would be why I’m asking. Give me a break, I just moved here a few days ago.”  
  
“They’re the Empire Eighty Eight.” Well, that confirms the ‘E88’ tag I saw outside was nazi related. “You’d do well to watch yourself in Brockton Bay, given your... proclivities.”  
  
_Well, that didn’t sound ominous at all_ , I thought, but I didn’t get a chance to comment, as the principal’s door finally opened, and she beckoned for me to enter, a grim look on her face.  
  


* * *

[New student is a Jap tranny. Called E88 “nazi weirdos”]

[no shit? name?]

[Jake Fujiwara. Calls himself June. Wearing red turtleneck and gray jacket]

[i’ll get this to the right people. good job. keep ur ears open.]  
  


* * *

_So it’s basically a huge outdoor flea market_ , I thought to myself as I glanced around the mish mash of stalls that made up the ‘Lord Street Market.’ The area was moderately busy with plenty of people walking up and down the walkways between stalls, and I began to casually stroll down one myself. _Nifty_.  
  
My first day of school had been, as expected, boring after the morning’s festivities. Principal Blackwell had introduced herself properly and regaled me with a litany of warnings about _blah blah_ this isn’t New York City _blah blah_ Empire _blah blah_ maim or kill me, all of which I ignored before reaffirming I wasn’t changing my mind about attending school as myself. I had even managed to limit myself to one joke about her fashion sense matching her name, though she hadn’t risen to the bait. Probably thought something along the lines of, _Oh no, the poor transgirl isn’t long for this world, as the evil nazis we allow to roam free in our city will somehow find out she’s trans and stab her in a dark alley where no one will hear her scream. There’s no need to give her detention on top of her imminent demise by hate crime._ But hey, I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth and had dutifully accepted my class schedule once she had swapped PE for Computer Science instead.  
  
It was like she expected me to shout, “Hey there, Brockton Bay at large! Just so all of you know, I’m transgender! I wouldn’t want to deprive your pet nazis of fodder for their getting their jollies off on the oppression and murder of Jews and people like me and, I dunno, fucking _Legend_.” Honestly, why were Blackwell and Masuyo so worried? They were the only people in this town who knew about me. Oh, and Ms. Secretary Lady too, I guess. But she didn’t count. _Anyway_ , the point was I passed just fine, if a bit flat-chested. There were still girls my age who were flat-chested! Like that curly haired girl in the drab hoodie I ran into in the bathroom at the end of lunch. If _she_ could go about her day without being harassed, then so could I.  
  
Which brought me back to the Lord Street Market. See, I hadn’t had anybody to sit with over lunch and hadn’t really made any connections with anyone from my classes, so I had decided to see if I could track down the girl who had guided me to the office that morning, seeing as she was the only person I ‘knew.’ Unsurprisingly, that hadn’t gone well, since—surprise!— a hell of a lot of students attended Winslow. I’d given it up as a bad job after about ten minutes of exploring the cafeteria, the courtyard, the front steps, and even the back entrance by the dumpster, and had simply plopped down on the steps leading up to the back entrance to eat the wrap I’d bought in the cafeteria. One of the students nearby, who I’d been surprised to see sharing a reefer with his buddies with little effort to conceal it, had mentioned swinging by the market after school.  
  
_Beats sitting around Masuyo’s apartment twiddling my thumbs_. I shivered a little bit as a particularly cold gust of wind from the bay blew past, and I scowled. I really liked this jacket, but even with it zipped up, I was cold. I paused when I saw a nice blouse at a stand selling some clothes, and I briefly considered stealing it before dismissing the idea. There weren’t nearly enough people around to distract the stand’s owner, and I didn’t know the area well enough to find a good spot to lay low after. I ran a regretful hand over the fabric before moving on, thinking I could scope out the area when I was done to set myself up for the weekend. I had a feeling it would be a lot busier then. I did end up deciding to treat myself to a cola when I passed a guy selling homemade soda though. I was past the biggest hurdle, and though making friends was still a daunting task, I expected it would be easier in a city where nobody knew me yet—where nobody had preconceptions of whom I _should_ be. In that way, at least, living in Brockton Bay would be easier than New York City.  
  
I eventually grew bored and decided to get a jumpstart on scoping out the area for any good boltholes. From what I’d seen when looking at an online map earlier, there were some docks to the northeast, and I began heading that way. Travel by ship back home hadn’t been a thing since Leviathan first appeared, so I figured it had to be the same here. Abandoned docks meant plenty of places to hide, so that seemed as good a place as any to start. I took a quick glance at the map app to ensure I was heading the right way, slipped my phone into my bag’s front pocket, and slung the bag back over my shoulders.  
  
Before long I had left behind the stalls and noise and found myself walking down an entirely abandoned block of road littered with potholes, a few piles of abandoned trash bags, and a car with no wheels that was covered in so much rust I couldn’t properly identify what color it had once been. I was just beginning to make a game of debating whether it would have looked better in hot pink or banana yellow paint when something that tasted like cotton was shoved into my mouth, causing me to gag. Immediately after, something hit me hard from behind, sending me flying through the air. Fortunately for my bones, albeit not my nose, one of the piles of trash bags broke my fall, but I was left breathless from the two back-to-back impacts. A muted thunk reached my ears as I tried to get my bearings, then someone grabbed me. I struggled against them for a moment, catching a glimpse of red clothing, but after a second they quite abruptly overpowered me, and I was tossed through the air. No, pulled? It strangely felt like my jacket was caught on something, and I was being yanked along for the ride. The feeling lasted only for a second, then my head hit something hard and stars filled my eyes. The light went away in time with a door being slammed shut, and when I grabbed at the ground, I felt smooth carpet under my fingers that rumbled with movement.  
  
_Is this a car? Holy fuck, am I being abducted?_  
  
I tried to yell for help, but the fabric still in my mouth muffled me, and when I tried to yank it out, my arms were thrown flat on the ground. My heart pounding in my chest, I tried to lift my right arm, but my jacket wouldn’t budge an inch.  
  
“It’s no use struggling, really. Just stay quiet back there,” I heard a young woman—maybe a girl?—say from what, based on the motion of the car, had to be one of the seats. There was an air of forced casualness to her words, but there was still a repressed energy to them.  
  
“Whaa tha faa?” I yelled back, my words distorted around whatever was in my mouth. “Ooo tha faa are you?”  
  
“I’m a... Shit, what did you call us again... Oh, right! I’m one of the ‘nazi weirdos.’ Ring a bell?”  
  
_Fuck._  
  
“I’m sure you can imagine, but the Empire doesn’t shit like that lying down, so I’m here to dispose of you.”  
  
_Fuck fuck fuck!_  
  
“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d make it this easy. I mean sure, I would’ve gotten you today regardless, but what possessed you to walk into the Boat Graveyard? All sorts of bad things could happen to you out here, and nobody would ever know.”  
  
Tears streamed down my face as I futilely screamed and impotently tried to beat the floor of the trunk with arms, my unmoving jacket rendering the result worthless. I was going to die. A modern day nazi was _going to kill me_.  
  
We came to a stop, and I heard a car door open and slam shut, then the trunk’s lid popped open. The light blinded me, and I flinched away, anticipating being stabbed or struck. The expected blow never came though, and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw the person standing over the trunk was a girl dressed in a dark black robe with red symbols lining its trim with a dark red domino mask over her pale face and had light blond hair spilling out from the pointed hood pulled up over her head. The sun hung low and washed the city line behind her in crimson as she held up a phone and asked, “So Jake, any last words?”  
  
“Thaa’s naa maa naaam, you nahzee faa!” I yelled as I tried and failed to lunge at her, forgetting in the heat of the moment that I couldn’t move my jacket.  
  
“Ooo, got some fight in ya, Jakey? That’s great for the video.” Abruptly my jacket yanked my arm around in a u-turn, and I smacked myself hard in the eye, eliciting a pained groan from me and giggles from her. “I guess it hasn’t sunk in yet. Don’t you see? _You’re not the one in power here_.”  
  
_Fuck, she’s a cape!_ I thought, the awful realization finally hitting me.  
  
“Listen, this has been fun and all,” she remarked with a shrug, the phone remaining floating where it was in the air, “but I’ve got places to go and things to do, so let’s call it a night, yeah? Bye, Jakey!” She waved goodbye with feigned cheer, then the car lurched away from her at high speed, and the trunk’s lid slammed shut.  
  
The car splashed into the water of what I could only presume was the Boat Graveyard with a lurch, and the cloth in my mouth pulled itself out. A part of me knew that nazi fuck was still filming me and probably pulled the cloth out on purpose in the hopes I would sceram, but I couldn’t help but shriek in terror as water began to leak into the trunk.  
  
_No, please, no!_  
  
Still unable to move my jacket, I lifted my feet, planted them against the underside of the trunk’s lid, and tried to shove and kick it open, but it wouldn’t budge.  
  
_Not like this!_  
  
The water level was already high enough that my head was starting to submerge, so I struggled to lift my head up and wiggle out of my jacket as I continued to ineffectively kick at the trunk’s lid. Salty water sloshed into my mouth, and I choked as I tried to spit it out.  
  
I was trapped and drowning. I was going to die.  
  
_I don’t want to die! Please just open_ —  
  
Two beings more colossal than anything I had ever seen loomed over me, their bodies composed of lights that rivaled the stars in which they moved, entwined in a dance that captivated my attention. They moved as one, and as they spiraled amongst that starry night, the lights from each entity swirled away. They were too many to count, but one grabbed my attention as it carved its way with purpose towards a destination.  
  
Towards me.  
  
— _dammit_!  
  
The trunk’s lid popped open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 01/28/21 to correct the colors of Rune's costume.


	2. Penny 1.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving off on a cliffhanger trigger event seems unnecessarily cruel, so here's the next chapter right off the bat. Enjoy!

The sight of the clear, twilit sky bleeding into the burning red sun overhead might well have been the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on. Unfortunately, I was too preoccupied with my still imminent death by drowning in a car trunk to properly appreciate it.  
  
I distantly heard someone say something—the cape?—but I couldn’t hear them properly. I hacked up salt water, struggled to keep my head above the rising water level, and tried to shimmy my body back and forth to shrug off the jacket holding me down. I had regrettably zipped up the damn thing earlier to ward off the chilly September air coming in from the bay, and with every inch of my jacket forcing itself into the car, I couldn’t move my arms to unzip it. Given enough time I might have been able to gradually work the zipper down by pushing my belly up into it, but time was a resource I didn’t have. The water level rose up to meet my mouth, and I physically couldn’t push my head up any higher.  
  
I started to choke again and was feeling faint. I needed the car to stop sinking, willed it with as much fervor as I could, and all around me, the trunk began to groan. I felt the water level rapidly recede, and if I hadn’t already been crying, then I would have cried for joy. In my mind, I could feel a sort of... a _weight_ was the only way I could think to describe it, and a part of me I’d never felt before was pulling it upwards. It was like I had grown another limb, but it wasn’t connected to me, not physically. It was just... _there_. All around me in every direction, there were more weights, and I started to reach out to one of them, but when I felt the car’s ascension stall, I hastily abandoned the other weight and threw my full focus into lifting the first weight—the car, I realized—again.  
  
“What the actual fuck?” this time I could definitely tell it was the cape speaking.  
  
The trunk slammed shut, and I immediately panicked at being trapped once more. I groped at the weight in my mind in an effort to break free, but my new limb or _whatever it was_ was unwieldy and fumbled with it. I could tell where I was in relation to it, and the water level began to rise again as something else began to shove the car down, so in desperation, I grabbed at the part of the car I was sure I was in and ripped it away from the rest with a horrendous metallic groan. Whatever the other force that had been acting on the car was, it continued to shove the other half of the car down, but its presence vanished altogether from the chunk of car I had pulled free. I was starting to feel faint again even though the water level began to rapidly recede, and with a final push of effort, I grabbed at the part of the car above me and pulled that away from the bottom I was still stuck to.  
  
_Freedom!_ The entire top of the trunk tore free, the grinding shriek of metal on metal briefly filling my ears, and I could see the sky once more. A fog I’d only just noticed had descended over my thoughts began to retreat at the sight, and a blackness at the edges of my vision that I hadn’t noticed in the darkness of the trunk fled with it. An inarticulate howl of fury reached my ears, and I twisted the portion of metal I was adhered to. The cape was on the ground about fifteen feet away from where the dropoff from concrete into water was, perhaps a bit more than a hundred feet away from where I hung up in the sky.  
  
“You’re a goddamn cape?!”  
  
_What?_ She was talking to me. Calling me a cape? But...  
  
Oh. _Oh_. I’m a moron.  
  
I still felt all three weights in my mind: The two halves of the trunk, one of which I was being pressed against, and the other portion I’d torn away from the trunk and was warring over with the other force—the cape on the ground, it had to be. The evidence was clear; I had become a cape somewhere in the past few minutes. I vaguely recalled a dream about two... somethings, but the sight of a chunk of concrete flying straight at me after the cape slapped her hand on it dispelled my attempts to remember the dream.  
  
It probably wasn’t important anyway.  
  
I tried to grab hold of the concrete with my power, but I couldn’t feel it at all. What was the difference? I didn’t have time to question it or, at this point, to dodge. I pulled the top half of the trunk in front of me as a makeshift shield before abruptly questioning whether the metal would actually hold up against a large piece of concrete hurtling at it. _Shit, what can I do?_  
  
Under my power, I felt the weight of that piece of car shift. Not up or down, or side to side—just _elsewhere_. I heard the concrete slam into my improvised shield and explode into pieces, but the metal not only didn’t give, it didn’t move at all.  
  
“Hell yeah! You’re nothing, you nazi cunt!” I jeered, the adrenaline pumping through me. _I’m a cape! I really am!_  
  
“Fucking die, you Jap faggot!” the cape screamed back. I couldn’t see her past my shield and tried to move it out of the way, but it stubbornly refused to budge. I focused more acutely on it with my power— _My power! Fuck yeah!_ —and realized it was still stuck _elsewhere_. I tried to pull it back from there, its weight shifted in response, then I found I could move it once again.  
  
I didn’t have time to focus on that weirdness right then though, since another chunk of concrete was hurtling around my shield and towards me with startling accuracy. I forced the chunk I was on to dodge while quickly shifting my barrier to intercept, and though I got myself out of the line of fire and blocked with the shield, the concrete punched through it this time. The concrete reoriented itself and shot towards me again. I whirled around so my back was facing the concrete and hastily shoved this piece of metal into the elsewhere, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the metal once again held strong against the concrete. I didn’t even feel the force of the impact on my back, which was incredible.  
  
“Ooo, thank you! I’ve been trying to scratch that itch for ages!”  
  
“Stop being so goddamn annoying!” she yelled at me as I pulled the metal I was on out of the elsewhere and turned back to face her. She was running past an abandoned pallet, so I tried to grab and throw it at her, but again, my power didn’t take hold. _Can I only control metal?_ The cape turned back to face me as she slapped both of her hands against a nearby metal shipping container. When it started to lift up into the air, I recalled how she had touched that concrete earlier as well and realized that she must need to touch objects first in order to move them. I abandoned fighting over the sunken remnants of the car and the pulverized top of the trunk and focused on trying to hold it down with my power. I successfully held it in place at first, but I immediately lost traction when she ran further down and touched the next one.  
  
_My power has limits too?_ I didn’t have time to figure it out, so I focused all my control except for what was holding me up in the air on the first container and flung it as best as I could in the way of the other container. The second container ran into the first with a horrible screech that I grit my teeth against, unable to bring my hands to my ears. The cape, being closer to the impact, wasn’t so lucky and slapped her hands over her ears with a pained shout. She must’ve lost concentration, since both containers fell to the ground with a clang that echoed a bit in the abandoned dock. But more importantly than that, the feeling of my jacket pressing into the metal stopped, and I started to plummet through the air.  
  
I caught myself by maneuvering the metal to break my momentum then hover beneath me, but I was starting to shiver from the cool air on my wet body and clothes. I had to finish this quickly, before she got a lucky shot in or I lost feeling in my limbs.  
  
Down below, the cape was rushing back over to the crashed shipping containers to touch them again. “Oh, you want those?” I taunted, once again focusing most of my power into the container closest to her. “Here, let me get that for you.” She dodged to the side once she realized what was going to happen, but she was too late to avoid the oncoming battering ram entirely, and it slammed into her hip with a crack. She spun violently through the air and skidded for nearly ten feet, leaving a long, bloody streak along the concrete before finally coming to a stop.  
  
Somehow, against all odds, she was still awake, though it was obvious as I lowered myself down to the dock that she was in agonizing pain. She fumbled with her phone for a moment, likely trying to call for backup, but with a tug of my power, the phone flew from her hand over to me. I snatched it out of the air and almost dropped it to the ground to stomp on it but froze mid-motion when it occurred to me that she knew who I was and could hunt me down again. I needed leverage, and this was my best shot at getting some. Ignoring her distressed shout of outrage, I fiddled with her phone to pull up her contacts. Disappointingly, the ‘My Info’ part of her phone was blank, so I guess she wasn’t a total idiot. Turning my attention back to her, I noticed there was something else made of metal in her robe and tugged it out, drawing a startled gasp.  
  
_Personal phone... and no password? Pay dirt. I guess you’re an idiot after all._ “Tammi Herren, huh? And how are _you_ today, Tammi?”  
  
“Fuck off, you Jap faggot,” she snarled, her tone wavering with obvious pain.  
  
“That line again? You really should come up with some more comebacks. Otherwise you come across like inbred white gutter trash.”  
  
“You won’t get away with this. The R-Rules...”  
  
_Rules?_ I didn’t know what to make of that, but my expression darkened at the first part. “Now maybe it’s just me, but seeing as you know who I am, I think it’s all too fair that I know who _you_ are, don’t you, _Tammi_?” She flinched away, and I nodded, satisfied. My shivering was getting worse, and my teeth were threatening to chatter. I needed to get some warm clothes quickly, and I knew just where to get them.  
  
“H-Hey, w-what do you think you’re doing, motherfucker?!” she shouted at me when I marched over and started tugging at her robe. She slapped her hand on it, but behind me, the closest storage container lifted into the air and moved through the air until it was directly over her head.  
  
She froze, watching it warily, and I remarked, “I’m intending to leave you with your life, if not your clothes. Are you really going to push me on the leaving you with your life part?”  
  
The robe tugged itself off, her power clearly at work, and she cried in agony as the fabric pulled itself free from where friction had burned it into her side. Ew. I eyed the bloody ring surrounding the missing patch of her robe with disgust, but I had to work with what I had. I tugged off my jacket and shrugged on the robe. It was warmer for sure, but I really needed to swap out all of my wet clothes. I glanced to the south and smirked a bit as an idea hit me. “Mask too.”  
  
“ _Motherfu_ —”  
  
“Mask too, _Tammi_ ,” I interrupted in a sing-song voice, the container dropping a whole inch, eliciting a startled shriek of terror from her. My smirk grew into a full blown grin when her domino mask slapped into my hand. I tugged it on, the adhesive still working somewhat, even if the fit was awkward. I only needed it for a short bit anyway. “Well, I’m off now. If you try anything funny, then you’ll be a Tammicake, got it?”  
  
“G-Got it.”  
  
I eyed her legs, both of which were bent at unnatural angles, and she was bleeding out a bit. There was no way she could get to help alive if I left her like this, so I sighed and tossed her the first phone she’d pulled out. “I’m guessing that’s your ‘work’ phone? Call for help. But remember, if you sell me out, then I’ll return the favor.”  
  
I didn’t bother waiting for an answer before flying off on my makeshift platform, knowing all too well that mutually assured destruction was the best outcome for both of us. I just didn’t like it. I didn’t know how far her range of control was, or mine for that matter, so I just flew south and, once she was almost out of sight, I flung the container into the Graveyard, splashing her with salt water in a last fit of pique. She deserved that and more for what she’d done to me.  
  
In short order I was flying over the market, and people were shouting and aiming cell phones at me. Perfect. I quickly found the stall with the clothes I’d looked at before and pulled up some clothes by their hangers, including the blouse I’d been looking at earlier. The shopkeeper’s expression was an amusing mish-mash of anger and fear that made him look like he was constipated, and I could help but laugh. Quickly checking that people were still recording, I yelled in my best approximation of Tammi’s voice, “That’s right, pitiful shopkeepers! Your clothes belong to the Empire! Bow down before our superiority complex and despair!”  
  
The look on the shopkeeper’s face? Fucking priceless.  
  
I zoomed off, cackling. Enjoy the bad publicity, Tammi.  
  


* * *

  
So I had a problem. Well, a number of problems, really, but two of them were particularly bad.  
  
Problem the first: I forgot Tammi has to touch things to move them, so my little stunt at the market probably wasn’t as effective as I thought. Disappointing, but there was nothing I could do about it now.  
  
Problem the second: The clothes I stole were my size but a bit too tight, so now I felt like I was fat. I was already eating veggie wraps at lunch—what more did the world want?!  
  
Problem the third: The blouse didn’t flatter my lack of figure well after all, which really sucked. Another injustice by the world at large, clearly.  
  
Problem the fourth, and this was a bad one: Everything that had been in my backpack was a lost cause on account of salt water damage. My textbooks were thankfully still in my locker at Winslow, but my notebooks were a soggy mess. More importantly though, my cell phone was very, very dead.  
  
The last problem tied handily into the final and biggest problem: I didn’t know where I lived.  
  
Now, don’t get me wrong, if I was at the building, I would totally know which floor Masuyo’s apartment was on. The problem was it was long past dark now, and things looked decidedly different when you flew over them from above, so any hope of trying to navigate by memory was a wash. I could have tried to hail a taxi or hunt down the street myself, but I didn’t know the actual address. I’d originally had it written down on a slip of paper in my backpack, and I had copied the info into my phone earlier during lunch. With my papers a jumble of wet, white slime and my phone an expensive paperweight, I had no way to get home.  
  
Right away, I wanted to find some metal to keep close in case the Empire had any more capes to throw around, since I had no idea what the gang’s make up was beyond ‘modern day nazis.’ All I had to defend myself with was the bottom half of the trunk of a car, the hangers the clothes had been on, and my phone, and that all felt woefully inadequate. That being said, I was also wary of flying around closer to the ground and getting spotted, especially by the Empire who were doubtlessly even more pissed off at me by now, so that implied I should stick to flying very high in the air. Unfortunately, that wasn’t doing me any favors in the temperature department. Ill fitting though they were, having dry clothes did help stave off hypothermia, but hanging about up in the air was exposing me to colder air than the ground.  
  
“I just can’t win,” I whined as I turned over each possibility while keeping an eye out over the lip of my flying trunk, just in case the Empire had any other fliers. In theory my address was on file with the school, so I could find out where I lived later at least, but that meant sleeping outside in the cold. Also, I had no idea what Masuyo would do if I didn’t show up tonight. She’d been really worried earlier, so she might call the cops or something, and I definitely didn’t want them involved in anything at all if I could help it.  
  
A gust of wind blew past me, drawing another whine from me as the cold sank in down to my bones. _Okay, flying up here isn’t going to work. I better find somewhere to stay the night._ Most of the area around the market had settled down by now, though I could still see smatterings of people walking to and fro under the light of street lamps. Not sure what else to do, I settled for following the main road from the market towards downtown. After just a few minutes’ flight, I found a noticeable bubble of light and noise around one building. At a guess, it was a nightclub, though if it was, it was surprisingly busy for a Monday night. Maybe it was a casino? Did they have those in Brockton Bay? If they did, I was pretty sure they stayed open late. Regardless, it was my best guess for a place where I could find warmth, so I flew over, taking care to set down in an alley a bit away from my target.  
  
On the ground once more, I hemmed and hawed over what to do with my sodden clothes and backpack and what I had of Tammi’s costume. I didn’t want to lose my clothes, since I was pretty sure they were still salvageable, especially the jacket which I quite liked. That meant keeping them close, even if it was uncomfortable, so I dumped the white mess of paper out of the backpack and shoved the rest in before pulling it on. My back was wet with the damp bag strapped there, but I would live. I also didn’t want to leave the trunk or the hangers, but if my guess that this was a nightclub was right, then I couldn’t think of any way to keep them close at hand. With a mournful sigh, I left them behind, and a short walk later, I found the source of the light and noise was, in fact, a nightclub after all. The ‘Palanquin,’ specifically, according to the plain glowing letters of their sign.  
  
There was a bouncer outside and a line that stretched around the building, and I groaned at my oversight. There was no way in hell I would be let into a nightclub. I was clearly underage, I was oddly dressed (at best), and I was carrying a soggy backpack containing, among other things, the outfit of a (known?) supervillain. I almost turned to go back to the alley where I’d abandoned the trunk and hangers, but I didn’t want to give up too quickly, so I skulked around the building as unobtrusively as possible. Around the back I found a loading dock with a huge metal door for deliveries, which was promising, but were there people inside? My power showed there were certainly lots of things I could affect moving around.  
  
Which on that note, I tried to lift a multitude of things in rapid succession with my power, just to make sure I was on the right track with how it worked: Backpack? Couldn’t lift it. Window on an upper floor of the club? Couldn’t lift it. The rat that just scurried by with what looked like a hunk of pizza in its mouth? Couldn’t lift it.The nearby dumpster, though—that I could lift.  
  
I looked at tons of items nearby that my power could affect, and I only ever saw things that were obviously metal or probably had metal in them.  
  
_Well that settles it. I can only affect metal. Good to know._  
  
Turning back to the matter of getting warm, I examined the inside of the club again and took note of all the metal moving around. I hadn’t ever really considered it before, but I supposed it was true that most people had something metal on them, like a phone, some change, or even the button to their jeans. I focused more closely on the area just past the dock door and didn’t feel any metal moving, so if there was a guard, they either had no metal on them or were very, very still. I pulled my bag around, retrieved Tammi’s domino mask, and slipped it back on. _If there’s anybody waiting to ninja me, then I’ll just book it._  
  
I grabbed hold of the door with my power, lifted it enough to create a gap, then ducked under it and let it slide back into place. I might have been worried someone would overhear the clanky noise of the door opening, but the loud thumping of the music pervaded the air even more now that I was in the building, so I felt pretty secure. The loading dock was only a bit warmer than outside however, which made sense in hindsight, so I regrettably needed to sneak deeper into Palanquin. I crept over to the only door leading further into the club and checked with my power. There was movement not that far away in the grand scheme of things, but it was a large mass of moving metal that had to be the people on the dance floor. I could sense regular spots of metal in the walls, but I didn’t know enough about buildings to figure out what that was. Either way, judging by the distance, I guessed I was only a hallway away or so from the dance floor.  
  
I tried to open the door and found it was locked. There was a keypad next to the door, and, judging by the feel of it with my power, another one on the other side as well. Thankfully, the lock itself seemed to be the sort of weight and size I would expect of a normal lock, so I just pulled the lock into the door. Or I tried to, anyway.  
  
“Whoops,” I muttered with a wince, as I examined the wood that had shattered when I’d pulled back the lock and then inadvertently continued to pull the whole mechanism further into the door itself. _Was I not gentle enough?_ I started to step past, since there was nothing I could do about it, but then I glanced at the busted lock wedged in the door. It was small and unobtrusive enough, so I pulled it from the wood with my power and tucked it in my bag just in case.  
  
After that, I moved out into the hall, which was thankfully as empty as I expected and also much warmer than the loading dock. The door at the far end of the hallway on my left seemed to be the direction the ever louder thumping music was coming from, so I initially turned right, hoping to find an out of the way supply closet I could hole up in. I paused though when a thought hit me: What would I do if I got found and had no metal around to use? All I had was my phone and the busted lock. Sure, I could always grab more when the need arose, but timing had been critical earlier when I fought Tammi. I didn’t want to be caught off guard again! If... If I snuck out into the room with the dancing, then I could get metal there... There was so much—surely no one would notice some of it missing?  
  
Before I knew it, I was walking in the other direction and slipping through the door into the club proper.


	3. Penny 1.3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is our journey into Palanquin!

Penny 1.3

Nightclubs are loud. Wow, what an original thought, I know, but I could _barely hear myself think_. That is, objectively, too goddamn loud, and anybody who argues otherwise is wrong, wrong, wrong. I could also barely see anything, since the lights were nonexistent everywhere that wasn’t the dance floor, which in contrast was a strobing light show featuring every color under the sun and then some. In short, it was perfect for someone trying to steal metal while standing in plain sight.

And _oh my god all that metal_! It was damn near hypnotic, feeling it all jump, jive, and bounce to the beat. If I could have properly seen it too? I swear, I might have lost my mind. As it was, I found myself swaying to the beat in time to the bulk of the metal’s movement, ignoring the dull ache in my ears from noise over exposure.

“Good evening, miss.”

It was tougher than I expected to drag my eyes over to look at who had spoken, and I was surprised when I did. The speaker was a tall, obese man wearing a pale green hoodie over a pair of comfortable looking jeans, his hands were tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie, and his hood was pulled up to obscure most of his head. Most. What parts of his face that were visible were covered in shell-like obtrusions. Even stranger, his skin was translucent to the point I could kind of see what might be his skeleton—it was difficult to say for sure in the dim lighting of the area where we stood.

“The hell is going on with your skin?” I distractedly asked then winced when I played that back in my head. “Um, sorry. That was rude of me.”

“It was, yes,” he agreed, his words slow and carefully enunciated. He had a faint accent, so I guessed he was a foreigner who had to think through what he wanted to say in English. “I accept your apology.”

I breathed a small sigh of relief. “Good.”

He didn’t say anything further, and eventually I realized I was staring at the dancing again, feeling the tiny weights of metal sashay with the music. Could... Could I do that with my power? I had broken that door’s lock, so I wasn’t sure how fine my control was. Still, I had come in here to get more metal anyway. I could kill two birds with one stone.

I reached out with my power and gingerly settled it over the people on the dance floor. I didn’t want to yank on anyone’s pants, so I tried to focus on pieces clustered together, figuring they would be coins. The music switched over to something vaguely electric with a pulsing bass, and before I knew it, I had tugged the coins up into the air and began to swish them to and fro in time to the beat. It was _so beautiful_. I spun each of them as I made them dance through the air, and the flashing lights twinkled and sparkled off them in a dazzling array that was simply mesmerizing to watch. There was a mixture of murmuring, outrage, and above all cheers from the dance floor, and though I was worried people had noticed I was pulling away their metal, what was done was done. More importantly, I noticed as I manipulated my borrowed playthings that I didn’t feel as frantic anymore, which was a definite plus.

“Your power is very beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

A beat of silence passed between us.

_Wait, what?_

I snapped around to face him with wide eyes, my fight with Tammi at the forefront of my thoughts as I readied myself to flee. In an instant, all the metal over the floor showered down on the dancers, and where before the crowd had been largely thrilled by my display, a mass cry of outrage rang out. But my focus was solely on the person I’d been speaking with. He had—correctly!—identified me as a cape, and much more importantly I had _just admitted I was by accident._

Dammit, he was clearly a cape too. How did that thought not occur to me before? I mean, for fuck’s sake, _I could see his teeth through his closed mouth_. “I’m... I’m not actually, um.... W-Why would you think I did all that?” _Smooth. Very convincing, June. 10/10. Definitely not lying out your ass._

He tilted his head again, his curiosity palpable. “You _are_ wearing a mask... It is a reasonable conclusion.”

I all but slapped myself in my haste to feel my face with my hands. “Oh my fucking god I forgot I was wearing a mask.”

The cape chuckled, “Yes, I see this.”

I took a wary step away from him. “Do... Do we have to fight? I’ve already been in one today, and I’d rather not be in a second.” It didn’t occur to me until after the words left my mouth that I had potentially said too much.

He slowly shook his head. “I do not wish to fight.”

 _Oh thank_ —

“But I will if I must. Please tell me why you are here, Miss.”

 _Fuck fuck fuuuck._ It was all too easy to imagine this hulk of a man attacking me like Tammi had, and I began to tremble, reaching out to the coins littering the dance floor in case things got hairy. I wasn’t sure what to tell him. It felt like a bad idea to give personal details like being new in town, but maybe an abbreviated form of the truth? At this point, it was a given I wouldn’t be staying here the night with no one unaware. “I, um, needed somewhere to stay the night. That was warm, I mean. This place seemed... Yeah.”

It was hard to read his expression between the shadows partially obscuring his face and how tough it was to actually see his skin as opposed to what was under it, but he seemed to be considering what I had said. Eventually he replied, “Very well, we need not fight. You may stay here one night. I must ask you to clean the floor, however. We do not want anyone to hurt themselves tripping.”

 _Clean the...? Oh._ I realized the music had stopped, and when I glanced that way, I saw the majority of the crowd had shuffled to the edge of the dance floor. It was tough to read their expressions as well, since the lights were still pulsating and whirling between colors at random intervals. _Dammit, I suppose he’s already figured it out anyway..._ “S-Sorry, I’ll take care of that. Um... Where should I...?”

“I am going to pull out my hand and point somewhere. Please do not be alarmed.”

He did as he said, and though I still tensed in case he might attack, his forewarning helped me not freak out. It was a near thing though, since his fingernails were a rotten brown and looked like they might fall off if touched. “Oh my god, your fingernails! Are you... are you hurt?”

He paused, his hand halfway through rising to point somewhere. “I am not in pain, no.”

 _Interesting choice of words. Second language problem, I guess?_ “Okay, good. You had me worried I needed to call an ambulance or something.”

“Thank you for your concern,” he replied, sounding faintly amused. He finished raising his hand, indicating the front exit, which was opposite our position in the room. I couldn’t really see anything over there, and a check of my power revealed too many points of metal to pinpoint determine anything. “A bouncer by the entrance has placed out a box. Would you please place everything in there?”

“I can’t see him from here. Can I move closer?”

“You may.”

I jogged away from the cape, moving in that direction and skirting around the dance floor. As I did so, I lifted all the metal from before into the air once more, drawing a mix of startled and delighted gasps from some of the crowd. I felt like I had to say _something_ , so I yelled, “My bad, everybody!” 

Some of the people in the crowd closest to me turned to look, and I heard more than one murmur, “Cape.”

I could see the entrance better by that point, and I saw a bulky guy next to a large box that might have been intended for use in a warehouse—I wasn’t really sure. I approached and gestured at the box. “Put everything here?” The guy nodded, so I pulled all the metal I’d left hanging in the air and began to dump it into the box. I missed some at first, but I waited until I had the rest in before lifting those bits back into the air and trying again. Once I was done, I gave the bouncer an awkward wave, which he returned with another silent nod.

I turned around and saw that though the cape from before had followed me over, he had stopped about fifteen feet away to give me space. Now that I had turned to him, he slowly closed the distance. “Thank you very much.”

The sound system kicked back on, and the DJ announced, “Sorry for the disruption, everyone. If you’ve lost anything, then please check in with our staff at the entrance on your way out, and we will do our best to ensure everything is returned properly.”

I ignored the message and the restarted music in favor of replying to the cape. “Sorry about that. I, um, don’t really know what came over me.”

He paused long enough that I almost began to say something else, but he eventually said, “There are intricacies to some powers that take time to learn. No apology is necessary. If you will follow me, then I will show you to where you may stay the night.”

He turned and started towards the side of the club with a balcony, and I followed, still careful to maintain some distance in case this was all a ruse. When we reached the stairs leading to the balcony, the bouncer stepped aside but the cape stopped and turned to face me once more. “I have forgotten to mention something. There is another individual like me on the balcony.”

I hesitated a second then asked, “This isn’t a trap or something, is it?”

Once again, he sounded faintly amused when he replied, “If it was, then asking me would likely not give you the answer you seek. Nevertheless, this is not a trap. We have some living accommodations upstairs, and you are welcome to use them for the night, as I previously said.”

I turned his words over in my head. He wasn’t wrong. This _could_ be a trap, and he certainly wouldn’t tell me if it was. Still, if trapping me or whatever had been his plan, then I had to admit he could have caught me off guard multiple times already. ‘Actions are clearer than words,’ or whatever the saying is. “Okay. I’d like to go upstairs.”

He nodded and turned to lead the way. In short order we ascended two switchback flights of stairs, and true to his word, there was another cape on the balcony. Like my guide, his appearance was... different. His skin was unmistakably a bright neon orange, even in the dim light, his purple hair seemed dyed but might be natural given his skin color, and he had a tail that looked like it was nearly as long as I was tall. Thanks to him being shirtless, I could also see he had some sort of tattoo near his heart, but I couldn’t make it out under the circumstances. I couldn’t say whether he was definitely my age or not, but he was certainly much younger than the cape guiding me.

The boy with the tail waved cheerfully and grinned widely. “Quite the show, Coiny!”

“Huh?” _‘Coiny?’_

“I dunno your name yet, and I have to call you _something_.”

“Introductions have not been made yet. My name is Gregor. It is a pleasure to meet you,” my guide—Gregor—said.

“Yo, I’m Newter,” the orange boy—Newter—affirmed with a swish of his tail. “Pleased to meet’cha. So what’s your cape name, Coiny?”

When I dithered, Gregor interjected. “You need not give it, if you do not want to.”

“I, um, don’t really have one?” I hesitated then tacked on. “I sort of only got my powers today.”

“No shit?” Newter said with a laugh. “Hell of a show for a newbie.”

“Thanks. I guess ‘Coin’ is fine for now, but not ‘Coinsy.’ That sounds _ridiculous_.”

“Fair enough. So, you ain’t got anywhere to live then?”

“Newter...” Gregor said, his tone warning.

“Fine, fine, yeesh. I’m not trying to fish for personal details or anything. Just making small talk.”

I glanced from Newter to Gregor and back. “I just need somewhere to stay tonight. At least, assuming my cousin doesn’t kill me when I get home tomorrow...” _Aw fuck, that was telling... I suck at this secret identity shit._

“Do you need a phone to call? It would be best to not worry them unnecessarily.”

I shook my head. “Would if I could, but I dunno her number. I had it on my phone, but it...” _Got completely submerged in salt water and partially crushed under my body while I was being forcibly drowned._ “It’s busted.”

“Unfortunate. Are you hungry? We can acquire you food.”

I shook my head to dispel the dark thoughts threatening to eat me up and instead focused on the fact that I _was_ quite hungry. I had intended to get dinner after visiting the market earlier, but after everything with Tammi, I hadn’t gotten around to it. Besides, I would have needed to steal it, since the few bills I’d had on me had been in my bag and were destroyed along with the paper that had my address on it. “That’d be great, but I don’t have any money...”

“It is okay,” Gregor said, dismissing my concern. “I will pay. Do you have a preference, Coin?”

I frowned. “I don’t like owing anyone.”

“You may pay me back later if you insist, but you should eat if you are hungry.”

“But…”

“Hey, you could pay us back with a repeat show,” Newter interjected with a grin. “We’ll provide the metal this time.”

“Newter—” Gregor started to once again reprimand, but I cut in excitedly, feeling a little funny again.

“Sure! You have more metal? Can I keep it? Please say yes!”

Newter nodded with a grin. “Ask and you shall receive! Consider it on the way. Now, what _do_ you want to eat?”

“Awesome! Oh, and um… A cheeseburger and a coke?”

“Ooo, I think if you’re quick, Fugly Bob’s is still open, Gregor. I’ll chip in on the delivery and Coin’s meal.”

Gregor took his leave without further comment, but I barely noticed, the thought of all that metal drawing my eyes back to the crowd below us. There was less metal on the dance floor now, but there was still enough that I found myself staring.

“You alright there, Coin?”

“Yeah...”

“Have your eyes on anyone in particular down there?” I hummed noncommittally, and he pressed on. “You picked the ideal night to come up here for the first time, by the way. If I hadn’t been taking care of something for the boss, there would’ve been a whole bunch of unconscious girls. It’s normal for me, but it might’ve been weird for you.”

Distracted though I was, that still caught my attention as being peculiar. “Hm? Whyzat?”

“My power gives people who touch me a crazy drug high. Non-addictive and with no hangover or side effects, which is good for pleasure but bad for combat. I usually invite some of the lady guests up for conversation throughout the night and facilitate them getting high if they want.”

“Oh. S’a weird power.”

“It makes me popular with the fairer sex, so hey, no complaints out of me! Feel me, my dude?”

I frowned a bit. “I’mma girl.”

“Oh. _Oh_. Huh. I’d thought... Eh, never mind. Shutting up now.”

Nothing else was said for some time, the thump of the bass and the high energy of the melody filling the silence between us. A part of me felt awkward and wanted to fill the quiet—if one could call it that—with talk, but every time I tried to think of a conversation topic, I got distracted and forgot what I’d been trying to think of.

“You sure you’re okay? You seem a million miles away.”

“I’m good...”

“If you say so. Ah, here’s that metal you asked for.”

My head snapped around, and a smile split my face in two when I saw I’d been brought three boxes full of assorted metal. I’d been so lost in the flow of the metal on the dance floor that I hadn’t noticed the lady and two guys coming with them. I knew these were here for me, so I didn’t bother asking for permission before grasping everything inside and sending it all swirling into the air with a gasp of delight. It was an eclectic mix of items including blank CDs, keys, chains, cutlery, screws, pots and pans, scrap metal, and coins of all denominations

It was beautiful.

I immediately felt better, the haze that had settled over my thoughts without my notice lifting in an instant. Recalling Newter’s request, I sent the motley array of metal swimming through the air until they were over the dance floor and sent them spinning around in place and around one another. The crowd roared its approval once more, and I grinned in response. Altogether I held thousands of items under my sway, and it was as easy as breathing.

_I was choking on water as I struggled to breathe._

My swarm dipped for a moment, but I hastily reasserted control as I took a deep breath to calm myself. _It’s okay. I’m totally okay. I’m in the middle of a nightclub, nowhere near water. No chance of drowning here—no way, no how!_

The lone woman who had helped bring up the boxes stepped over to the rail, staying a respectable distance away without being so far as to require shouting to be heard over the din. “You almost dropped them again. What happened?”

I glanced her way. She had tanned skin, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and looked to be older than Masuyo though not by much if I had to guess. Her white dress shirt had its sleeves rolled up and was carefully tucked into a pair of black slacks. I didn’t need to look down to know she was wearing steel-toed boots of some kind. I debated whether to answer her. She _had_ been asked to bring up metal, and I was clearly hanging out with Newter. Ah, and the mask—I kept forgetting about that. It was pretty likely I was the cape making the metal dance through the air, so there was little point in pretending I wasn’t.

“I didn’t. I mean... I guess I _did_ , but I caught them all.”

“It doesn’t seem like it’s a limitation... Were you thinking of something and got distracted?”

I winced, doing my best to shove down the feeling of drowning while trapped in that car. I’d originally thought about keeping that trunk, but the more I thought about it, the less and less I ever wanted to see it again. “Yeah. And I, um, don’t want to talk about it.”

She nodded once at that. Not quite curtly. She came across as to the point but not rude. I had to give her kudos. I’d tried to strike that balance a few years back, but I had stopped when I eventually realized I would never be capable of walking that line. Instead, I just just leaned into being rude. It was a hell of a lot easier. “Fair. Regardless, your control is impressive for someone who just got their powers.”

I pulled back some of the coins and rotated them before me in a vertical ring, noticing for the first time that they weren’t all US currency. There were some coins I vaguely recognized as being Canadian, but most of them were kinds I didn’t recognize. One silvery coin in particular stood out to me, since it had a hole in the middle. I brought that one closer and could just barely make out the embossed ‘50’ on it, the rest incomprehensible in the low light. Without warning, I sent it rocketing towards her forehead. Reacting in an instant, the woman swiped at the coin, and blue and red energy crackled when she struck the coin mid-flight. I took an involuntary step back as the two halves of the coin fell to the ground.

“Jesus, Coin, what the hell?” Newter said incredulously, instantly tense and ready to fight. His tail sliced violently back and forth the air.

“I only told Newter and Gregor that,” I remarked, my eyes still locked on the woman. I noted she had struck down my projectile seemingly without moving anything except her one hand. _You get some badass points for that, lady._ “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, you know.”

“True, though the punishment should fit the crime, wouldn’t you agree?” she replied, unperturbed. “Does eavesdropping necessitate death by a coin punching through my brain?”

I gave her a startled look. “The hell? Fuck, lady, I was just trying to scare you to try and figure out why you’d been snooping! I wasn’t going to actually _hurt_ you!”

She crossed her arms. “That was a stupid plan, if true.”

“It _is_ true. And, um... no comment?”

“You didn’t lose focus this time.”

I blinked at the apparent non-sequitur, then I realized she meant the assortment of metal still hanging over the dance floor like a constellation of reflective stars. “Huh.”

The woman reached into the breast pocket of her shirt and withdrew a card that she held out to me. I tugged the two halves of the coin she’d split up into the air, grabbed it in a pincer movement using them, and brought it over to me. A phone number was the only printed information on it, each digit a clear bold that was slightly raised, but text was written on the back in clear penmanship: “09/28 5 P.M. $10,000.”

“My name is Faultline. As it stands, I do apologize for eavesdropping on your conversation, as I’m sure you apologize for sneaking into my club and breaking our loading dock door. You are welcome to sleep in our accommodations tonight. If you are interested in mastering your power and joining our mercenary group, then return here this Wednesday at that time. Call if you absolutely must reschedule. Have a good night, Coin.”

“Wait!” I called out when she turned to leave. She paused and glanced at me over her shoulder. “$10,000? What does this mean?”

“That would be your signing bonus.”

My jaw dropped, and she left without another word. Conversation between Newter and me wasn’t stilted after that, but it didn’t quite flow freely either. It was likely my fault, since I had a lot on my mind—namely the card and pieces of coin I had tucked into my pocket.

_Three capes all in one place... Insta-high skin, splitting things in half, and who knows what Gregor can do. And I broke in here wearing a mask. This could’ve gone so wrong, so fast._

I made my excuses to leave the dance floor not long after Gregor returned with our food. I safely returned most of the metal to the boxes, though with their permission I happily stowed the coins in my backpack. I ate in the privacy of the room I would be sleeping in for the night, and though the burger was amazing, I had to admit it was greasy and fatty to such a degree it was probably liable to cause a heart attack. Once I was finished, I laid down and pulled the halves of the broken coin out of my pocket and idly pushed them together.

The coin became whole, a thin, jagged scar cutting down its middle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author note (06/04/20): Minor correction made to the date on the card Faultline gave June. I was mistakenly working off of a September 2011 calendar, but this is September 2010.


	4. Penny 1.4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's our next chapter, featuring the return of everyone's favorite: Aisha!

Wearing borrowed clothes to school on my second day hadn’t exactly been my plan, but I suppose it was better than wearing ill-fitting clothes instead. Minor victories. The plain, turquoise t-shirt, comfy jeans, and tan jacket had already been in the room when I entered it last night along with a couple twenty dollar bills and a note that they were ‘payment for the show.’ I had scowled a bit at that, but I had ultimately decided to keep the money. I needed some right then, and it _was_ true that I’d been a crowd pleaser. I pulled the clothes on and idly wondered who they belonged to. They weren’t Faultline’s—she was definitely taller and actually had a figure. These seemed like they belonged to someone closer to my age who dressed for comfort over style. I only passed one staff member on my way out, and when I asked where the three capes I’d met last night were, he said Faultline was out on an errand and the others were still asleep. 

The quiet that hung over the club was pretty disconcerting in a way. It just didn’t seem right to see it like this, without the flashing lights and pulsing beats, so I made my leave quickly enough after asking the guy where I could get breakfast. Bus fare cost a $1.25 if I remembered correctly, and while I had a quarter—at least, I was sure I had a quarter _somewhere_ in my bag—I needed to break a twenty to get a dollar bill. I was hungry and wanted breakfast, so if I could kill two birds with one stone? All the better.

Once he’d given me directions to a nearby coffee shop, I ducked around the corner of the club once I’d left out the front, and I tugged off Tammi’s domino mask once I was reasonably certain no one was looking. The shop wasn’t far away, and I got there quickly enough by foot. It wasn’t until I had ordered my croissant and bottle of coke—the person at that counter had given me a look when I’d ordered that instead of coffee—that I saw the clock on the wall and realized I had only a half an hour to get to the school. There was no way I could figure out the bus transfers and actually get from here to there in time. Hell, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t even get halfway there before I was late, and I still needed to stop by the office to ask, _“So, does anybody know where I live?”_ I wanted to do that before school, so I could go straight to Masuyo’s apartment after and get my own clothes.

 _Well, there’s one way I could get there in time_ , I thought.

Once my order was ready, I practically swallowed my croissant whole, I ate it so quickly. Once I only had crumbs and half a coke left, I hastily exited the shop and made my way back towards the Palanquin, bottle in hand. If capes like Gregor and Newter were known to associate with the club, then anyone who saw what I was about to do probably wouldn’t think as much of it. Made sense to me, anyway, and I didn’t have a lot of time to ponder a better idea. I simply ducked back around the side of the building again and pulled the mask back on. Once it was in place, the coins I’d had stored in my backpack and kept feather light with my power swarmed out of my bag and wrapped around—

 _I was trapped in the trunk, darkness everywhere_ —

The coins clattered to the ground as I shivered. _Shitfuck! Nooope, that ain’t gonna work._

I almost resigned myself to just being late, but then I glanced at the coins clustered on the ground in a ring around me. _Wait, am I over thinking this?_ I stepped onto a portion of the ring, wrapped the rest around my feet, then lifted _that_ up into the air.

 _Fuck_ YES _, I can fly!_ I thought while hovering a foot above the ground. Then I tried to take off like I’d seen Legend do and released a startled shriek when I nearly fell on my face. _Whoops. Well that was graceful... I guess I gotta add metal to more points of my body, if I don’t want to flop over and literally break a leg._ It took me the better part of a minute to find a happy balance between ‘stable enough to fly’ and ‘ _nononodarkplaceisbad!_ ’ but I eventually settled on wrapping coins around my feet and legs up to my knees, wrapping some around my hands and arms up to my elbows, and wrapping some more just underneath my nonexistent bust. It didn’t feel that dissimilar to wearing boots, gloves, and a belt, albeit a ridiculously high belt, but what mattered was it _worked_.

I was _flying_! It was amazing! Granted, I didn’t seem to be flying incredibly fast or anything like that. It was hard to judge with certainty, but I appeared to be out pacing most of the cars I flew over below. But hey, I also didn’t have to deal with other drivers, stop lights, or even following streets, so perks—namely, _flying_!

I flew away from the rising sun towards the northwest while drinking the remnants of my coke, and I spotted Winslow in short order. I didn’t have a watch and my phone was still deader than a doornail, so I didn’t know how close to the bell I was cutting it. I did see students outside though, so that meant I wasn’t late yet, at least. I quickly found a place to touch down discreetly and began to pull my coins back into my bag. The imagined image of my bag slurping up the coins and burping made me giggle a bit, and soon enough I was tossing the coke bottle in a nearby dumpster and leaving the alley. Correction—I _pulled off the mask and put it in my bag_ before I left the alley. Forgetting I had been wearing it the night prior was once more than I ever wanted to make that particular mistake, thank you _very_ much.

From there the journey to the school’s office was straightforward. It wasn’t far from the entrance, though I did take some time to marvel at how much metal was in the school. Lockers, light bulbs, piercings, jewelry... Hell, I could sense, judging by their relative sizes and weights, what were likely knives and guns. It was mind-boggling to realize just how much metal could be in a place when I hadn’t really paid it any attention before. Still, I was on a time crunch, so I forced myself to stop trying to count how many people were carrying weapons—spoiler alert, it was a _lot_ —and made myself actually walk into the office. Just like yesterday, the secretary kept her eyes firmly on her monitor until I was actually standing in front of her desk. Only then did she acknowledge my presence with a brief glance, a perfunctory, “What do you need?” and returning her gaze to her monitor.

She did a double-take and stared at me, her mouth agape.

 _Oh boy_ , I thought wryly, _she’s stepped up her rudeness._ Which of course necessitated an appropriate response. “Careful, you could swallow a fly like that.”

“You’re—”

“ _June_ Fujiwara,” I stressed, remembering all of yesterday’s hoopla and deciding to get ahead of it this time. “Listen, weird question, but uh, do you have my cousin’s address on file? Phone number too, actually. And on a related note, could I use your phone?”

“ _Omigod_! Jake!”

I involuntarily looked up at the (regrettably) familiar name, winced when I realized what I had done, then blinked when I finally acknowledged that, yes, Masuyo was standing in the open door to the principal’s office. In the blink of an eye, my cousin rushed across the room and wrapped me in a hug, which no, nope, nuh uh, not happening. I shoved her off, and she gave me a hurt look. I had no idea why though, or why she’d _hugged_ me. We had only _really_ known each other for less than a week, so why was she acting like this? There had to be more there, and it probably tied into why she took me in when Mom died, but asking her about it in the middle of the school’s office while Principal Blackwell and Secretary McRudeFace were watching was a wretched idea.

“My name is _June_. And, um… Hi, Masuyo?”

“Ja— _June_ , where were you? You never came home last night!”

And so we reached the question that I probably should have decided on an answer for before now, though to be fair, I hadn’t expected to run into Masuyo at _Winslow_. I’d thought I would have a whole school day of generally ignoring teachers to come up with a plausible lie. _Sorry I didn’t call, but the paper containing your address and phone number got blown away by a gust of wind into the bay, and when I tried to catch it, I accidentally fell into the water and ruined my phone and all the contents of my bag. Thankfully a friendly do-gooder whose name I’ve conveniently forgotten saw the entire tragedy unfold and, moved by my plight, housed me for the night and gave me these dry clothes to wear. No, I don’t recall where they live—I’m a wide-eyed kid in a brand new city, how could I possibly be expected to recall an important detail like that? Or this person’s name? Or what they looked like? Or what their house looked like?_

You know. A plausible lie. Not at all like that one, AKA the lie I spun on the spot because I was caught on the wrong foot.

Masuyo sighed and ran a hand over her face while Blackwell and McRudeFace simply stared. “June…” she started to say before pausing and holding up her finger, a look I couldn’t decipher crossing her face. Personally I was just pleased she used my goddamn name this time with stuttering or needing me to prompt it with an _opstay with the akejay_. “Just… We’ll talk more when we’re back home, okay?”

“Sure.” _Putting that off forever, if I can help it._

“I’ll… See what I can do to get you a new phone. I’ll check my finances when I get home.”

I had to bite my tongue to not snap at her over that. _She keeps doing this. Why does she keep doing this?_

“Do you have money or did that get ruined too?”

Really trying my patience. “I have money.” That was actually the truth too. I had who knows how much money in coinage of varying currencies in my backpack at that very moment, plus a few bills too.

Her expression tightened a bit, and she pulled out her wallet anyway, like she was uncomfortable and trying to hide it. I honestly had no idea how I kept my expression aloof—I was _seething_. Determined not to make a scene in front of the school staff, I silently resolved to slip the money back into her wallet later or, if she noticed, say a friend gave me lunch.

If she was going to continue being like this, then I would definitely need to consider Faultline’s offer. Or else just use my powers to make my money in some other way. I was no stranger to stealing clothes, makeup, purses, and all that jazz, and it would only be easier with my new powers. In fact, now that I had powers, I could finally get access to the sorts of things I hadn’t been able to steal before. Namely, hormones for my transition. I could just rob a pharmacy for them. For that matter, any pharmacy I robbed would have valuable drugs like narcotics I could sell, and places like that were doubtlessly insured against robbery.

The idea of running on my own was _very_ appealing, since I liked being self-sufficient, but if Brockton Bay was anything like home, then the statistics for being a solo villain—or hero, for that matter—were probably shit. And if Faultline had ten grand to throw around as a _signing bonus_ , then working for her would probably be pretty lucrative.

It was food for thought.

* * *

Masuyo left shortly after giving me some money— _ugh_ —a new slip of paper with her address and phone number on it, and since first period had started by that point, I was sent to class with a note and a fresh copy of my schedule. I had different classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays than the rest of the week, and I was pleasantly surprised to find I shared the class right before lunch with the girl who had shown me the way to the office yesterday. Our seats weren’t next to each other or anything as convenient as that, but that still meant I knew where she was once when the bell rang. Not that I could possibly miss her in that outfit. Jeans with holes everywhere that revealed purple fishnets, a white crop top featuring a flaming skull with a black speech bubble and red symbols clearly meant to be censored swearing, and an over-sized bomber jacket. And neon green lipstick. Can’t forget that. How on earth did she get away with wearing that here?

“Hey, wait up!” I called out as I jogged a bit to catch up to her out in the hallway once class was over. It seemed like she wasn’t heading in the direction of the cafeteria—at they very least, the rest of our class was heading the other way—but she might have been heading to her locker to get a bag lunch or something, so I didn’t pay it any mind.

She gave me a confused look when I slowed to a walk next to her, but recognition lit up her eyes after a second. “Oh hey, newbie. What up?”

I briefly entertained the thought of telling her what had happened yesterday sans my gaining powers, just for the look on her face, but I ultimately rejected the thought. “Eh. New school shit. I haven’t got anybody to sit with at lunch. Mind if I tag along?”

She tossed me a look. “I’d been planning to peace out and hang out on the Boardwalk. You down?”

I cocked my head a bit in thought then shrugged. “Sure, I guess. Any particular reason you wanna play hooky?”

“Do I need one?”

“Nah. Just curious.”

She smirked a bit. “Awesome. Name’s Aisha, by the way.”

“June.”

“Like the month?”

“Yup.”

“A’ight. Let’s bail, Junebug.” She pointedly ignored my glare at the horrible nickname, and it just so happened that she almost tripped over a small pile of pennies someone—certainly not my power when nobody was watching!—must have dropped on the ground.

It turned out she had been walking to the rear entrance of the school where the kids smoking reefer had been the day prior, which made sense. If anybody in this dump were actually going to stop us from leaving, it seemed more likely to happen walking out the front door. The rear entrance was on the west side of the building, and though we needed to head east in the grand scheme of things to head towards the bay, we very deliberately made our way south for a while before finally grabbing a bus towards the Boardwalk. Nobody really paid us any mind beyond an eyeroll and a “don’t cause any trouble” from the bus driver, who seemed like he was long past caring about kids playing hooky. Aisha clearly knew the city well, as she naturally weaved comments into our chatter about how the street we just passed was constantly being fought over by the E88 and ABB, the Merchants—a gang of drug users and pushers, apparently—frequented that neighborhood to the north, and so on. We thankfully didn’t need to take any transfers, which explained why Aisha had walked as far as she did to catch that particular bus line, and reached the Boardwalk after a little more than half an hour. 

The salty smell of the breeze wafting in from the ocean hung heavy over the area, which was littered with people walking to and fro on a long wooden walkway over the beach with periodic docks and stairs of the same material respectively jutting out into the water and descending to the sandy beach below. An eclectic array of shops were located along the walkway, ranging from ice cream parlors with homemade flavors to gift shops carrying tourist bait trash to boutiques selling dresses that probably cost more money than I’d ever seen in my life. The effect left me a bit homesick for Coney Island, truth be told. It probably would have been worse if there had been an amusement park, but even if there had been one, it would have been impossible to mistake this place for home. Coney Island didn’t have bulky, uniformed men who I was pretty confident weren’t police positioned here and there amid the crowds, nor did it have the sight of a forcefield over a retrofitted oil rig out in the water. Some kind of bridge made of light suddenly stretched out from it in a gentle arc, connecting to the paved road on the other side of the shops, and two motorcycles crossed it, the roar of their engines matched by some cheers from people who were probably tourists. The riders were clearly capes, and though I recognized Armsmaster’s blue tinkertech armor and halberd slung across his back, I didn’t know the lady in army fatigues, combat boots, an American flag mask over the lower half of her face, some sort of sash around her waist in traditional USA colors, and her hair pulled back into a ponytail—another casualty of my limited research time before coming to Brockton Bay.

“I recognize Armsmaster,” I spoke up, drawing Aisha’s attention, “but who’s the military lady?”

She gave me a funny look for a moment then shrugged. “Miss Militia. So wait, you new to the city too?”

“Yuuu-p,” I replied, popping the final consonant, drawing a snort from her.

The capes finished crossing, and the bridge melted away, so traffic began moving normally again. “The hell you doin’ moving to Nazi Capital USA?”

I somehow laughed and sighed at the same time. “Mom finally killed herself. OD, not that I was expecting her to go any other way.” A bit of discomfort entered her eyes and posture, so I promptly deflected. “So, what’cha wanna do now that we’re here?”

She shrugged, some of the uneasiness in her body language fading. “Food first, then some ice cream. I gotta hankering, and I wanna enjoy that shit before it gets too cold for it.”

Well at least she waited until it was in the low 70s to satisfy that particular desire. Just thinking about having ice cream in yesterday’s weather sent a shiver up my spine. “Sounds good. But, um, most of these places look real expensive.”

She snorted. “Costs more than it’s worth, most of it. You gotta know which places are worth buying from and which places are worth stealing from.” 

I glanced her way and watched as frustration tinged with embarrassment spread across her features. I didn’t know what to make of that, so I just responded normally, hoping she might drop a hint about what was up with that look. “Makes sense. There were some stores back home where it was easier to shoplift than others.” I glanced askance at a not-policeman as we passed through his line of sight. He met my eyes briefly, and I resisted the urge to look away immediately. That was one of the first things I learned when I began to steal—avert your eyes too quickly, and you seem like you’re up to no good. If you stared for a couple of seconds then slowly moved your gaze away, you would come across as curious instead. “We didn’t have whoever these jokers are skulking about though.”

“Yeah, you gotta watch out for the Enforcers. They catch wind you’re a thief, then BAM!—you’re tiny pieces in a dark alley.” Oddly, she sounded _relieved_ , which _what the hell_ , but then I put two and two together and realized she was relieved I hadn’t made a big deal about her mentioning stealing. Her earlier embarrassment abruptly made much more sense. And, okay yeah, weird to just put it out there like that. We had code phrases, gestures, and the like back in Brooklyn, which was useful for discreetly finding a fence but inconvenient when you were first starting off and didn’t know what to say and do. Did they have that here? Maybe they had and I’d missed the signals because they’re different?

Whatever. Problem for another time. “They sound like a fun bunch. So, any place around here that won’t charge a hundred bucks for a veggie wrap?”

Aisha laughed incredulously. “A veggie wrap? The fuck you eating that shit for?”

I poked her stomach, exposed as it was by her crop top, and she scowled and swatted my hand away. “Some of us have to diet to stay thin.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Whatevs. I know a place, c’mon.”

‘A place’ apparently meant a rundown diner off the main strip a block away from the actual Boardwalk. It looked like a bit of a dive, but I was willing to withhold judgment until I’d actually tried their food. There had been some unpolished gems back home too, but I roughly suppressed those thoughts. If I kept comparing everything in Brockton Bay to back home, then I was bound to get caught up in a funk. _You live here now,_ I thought. _Get used to it._

A waitress bustled over when we stepped in and frowned once she got a good look at us. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in school?”

Aisha opened her mouth to reply, but I beat her to it. “Flatterer. We aren’t _that_ young.”

The waitress raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh. I guess it ain’t any of my business, as long as you’re paying. Booth or table?”

“Booth,” Aisha chipped in.

She grabbed two menus from a nearby box then lead us over to a free booth, laying them down on each side before stepping aside to let us slip in. “Know what you want to drink?”

“Lemonade,” Aisha responded at the same time I replied, “A coke.”

Once the waitress left, Aisha raised an eyebrow. “Thought you were dieting or whatever?”

“I am?”

“Uh… A coke ain’t diet food.”

“Well, I mean, I’m not dieting _all_ the time,” I defended. “I get veggie wraps, salads, and the like for lunch, but I do whatever’s convenient for breakfast and dinner. And I can’t _not_ have a coke.”

She grinned. “Riiight. Sounds like the makings of a good diet. You’ll be five hundred pounds in no time.”

I kicked her under the table. She kicked back, cackling.

Yeah, I had a feeling we were going to get along just fine.

I took a second to examine the menu and confirm they did indeed serve veggie wraps here. When the waitress came back with our drinks, she took Aisha’s order—a chicken sandwich with fries—then turned to me and asked, “And you, sir?”

I scowled. “I’m not a guy.” She gave me a skeptical look, and I grit my teeth. “Look, I’m here for food, not your opinions. Just get me a fucking veggie wrap.”

“There’s no need to swear,” the bitch haughtily replied.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be giving people shit over how they look,” Aisha sneered. She visibly looked her up and down. “Ain’t like you got room to be talking.”

 _That_ got her mad. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. Get out of here before I call a truancy officer.”

“Happily,” I bit out, spitting in the drink she’d just brought to the table.

The two of us left, and Aisha paused to flip the bird at the waitress at the door before cackling and running out when the lady yelled at her. I watched with a smirk from the sidewalk, basking in the vindictive pleasure of being defended by a friend.

“Didn’t realize this place had started hiring assholes. C’mon, let’s find somewhere else.”

“Sounds good.”

A short while later, we were enjoying some hot dogs from a good cart Aisha knew of, leaning against the boardwalk railing and chatting idly about random topics. I’d never been the sort to comfortably sit around with someone in silence, so the babble was a-okay in my books. Oddly, I found I got really uneasy if I looked at the bay’s waters for too long, so I made a point to face away from them.

After the previous topic reached its conclusion, Aisha unexpectedly asked, “Do you get that a lot?"

“Get what?” I asked, thrown by the non-sequitur.

“Get mistaken for a guy.”

I sighed bitterly. “My whole damn life,” I replied, actively avoiding _why_. “I’d been hoping it would be different here. Would’ve made being forced to move here worth it, at least.”

She tilted her head, a considering look on her face, then nodded. I almost questioned why, but she spoke up before I could ask. “That sucks.” She paused. “I guess I did that too. Sorry again about that.”

With how unapologetic Aisha seemed to be in every other way, especially her attire, it felt important that she had apologized—twice over the same thing, no less—so I gave her an easy shrug. “You’ve been chill since. So, y’know, we’re cool.”

She smirked. “You been to the Market yet? We should go Saturday and see about getting you something rockin’ to wear to school Monday.”

“You mean that big flea market off of Lord Street? I’m down with that.”

“Tourist,” she said with a roll of her eyes, though I could hear the humor lacing the words. “Brocktonites just call it the Market.”

“Okay, ‘Market’ I can get behind, but ‘Brocktonites’? You’ve gotta be kidding me. That sounds so lame.”

“The hell else we gonna call ourselves? Bayers? Brocktonians? Brockers?”

I laughed at the last one. “Okay, I’ll give you that. I guess it’s not _your_ fault whoever founded this place didn’t pick a kickass name like ‘New York City.’”

“You’re joking, right? They just took the name of the state and tacked ‘city’ on the end!”

“And I suppose John Doe Brockton or whoever founded this place using his last name with ‘bay’ on the end is better?”

Our hot dogs consumed, we continued our friendly bickering while window shopping for some time before parting ways for the day. Of course it wasn’t until after Aisha had left that I realized I was an idiot—knowing the address of something didn’t actually translate to knowing where that street is. 

_And Aisha could’ve given me directions too. Fuck my life._

* * *

It thankfully didn’t take me very long to get back to Masuyo’s apartment. In the end, I asked one of the Enforcers if I could borrow their phone’s map app, posing as a tourist looking for my aunt’s house. I was only lying about the exact details, so it was easy enough to be convincing, and I got a small thrill out of being a thief right underneath the asshole’s nose. I was careful to only search for the name of the street—I didn’t want the asshole to come knocking later after all—then found a secluded place to take flight with my power, mask in place. Once I’d found my way to the street, it didn’t take that much longer to actually find the apartment building. It was a little ways due east from Brockton Bay University, just a bit north of the north end of downtown, so I was confident I could find it easily enough in the future.

I carefully descended, stowed my coins and mask, then made my way inside, easily retrieving the metal key from the sea of metal in my backpack by flexing my power. Out of habit I almost tossed my backpack onto the floor by the door as I slipped inside, but I aborted the motion halfway through at the last second. If I left it there, then Masuyo might think to move it, would doubtlessly notice it was insanely heavy, and would probably investigate. I had no idea how I could explain my stash of coins, so it was better to avoid the scenario altogether. I tugged the bag back up onto my shoulders and started towards the pullout couch I was sleeping on instead, flipping on the lights as I entered the living room.

I was halfway through unfolding the bed when Masuyo emerged from the hallway leading to her room and the bathroom. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. You’re home.” Not hearing a question, I didn’t bother replying. After I got the bed fully unfolded, she asked, “So… How was school?”

Something about the way she said that made me suspicious, so I glanced at her over my shoulder. “It was fine. Why?”

“Nothing interesting happened?”

 _Ugh. Did the school call her about me skipping? Maybe I can divert her attention?_ “I guess… If making a friend counts.”

Masuyo’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Who is he?”

I crossed my arms. “ _Her_ name is Aisha.”

“Ah, sorry, I just thought… Well, never mind. It doesn’t matter what I thought.” _Damn right it doesn’t_. “I’m just… I’m just glad you’re here. You scared me when you didn’t come home yesterday!”

A part of me really wanted to tell her _This isn’t home_ , especially after my bout of homesickness earlier at the Boardwalk, but I managed to hold my tongue. This place may not be home, but it was still a roof over my head. Yesterday had made it abundantly clear that was nothing to scoff at. “Yeah… My bad.”

She ran a hand over her face, a look of frustration peeking out from between her fingers but disappearing by the time they slipped off her chin. “I checked my finances, and I’m sorry, but I can’t get you a new phone until after my next paycheck on Friday. We can go to the mall on Saturday, okay?”

I bit my lip, feeling frustration well up in my gut. When I had lived with Mom, I’d grown used to being self-sufficient while she lived from drug trip to drug trip. The only things she had ever done for me were giving birth and somehow—and god only knows how—managing to pay rent regularly enough that we hadn’t been tossed out on the street. Then along comes Masuyo trying to pay for everything, someone I hadn’t known until Social Services introduced us and said we were family. And don’t get me wrong: I didn’t doubt that we were related or anything like that. Sure, I had some freckles and my hair edged more towards brown than her midnight black hair, but we had the same button nose and cheekbones, and our eyes were the exact same shade of chocolate brown. I could definitely see us being cousins. To get back to my point though, I was frustrated because I wasn’t used to someone caring about me. She was concerned when it seemed like I didn’t have lunch money earlier and made a point to give me some, even though it was obvious she didn’t really have the money to give. I was used to going hungry when I didn’t have lunch money—AKA all the goddamn time. Then she got all freaked out enough to apparently try to hunt me down at the school when I didn’t come home last night. I was used to being at home whenever I pleased because I could count on Mom being too high to notice my comings and goings. On some level I knew I should be happy to have someone in my life now who gave a fuck, but it was _weird_.

I didn’t want weird. Leaving home behind and moving to this stupid city with its modern day nazis was weird enough. Nearly getting killed after my first day of school, my third day in this bloody city because _I was trapped in the trunk, can’t get out, ple—Fucking stop it brain!_ —because I’m trans or Japanese or both or _because I was a convenient target I don’t fucking know_ was the worst kind of weird. I was full up on _weird_ , and I didn’t know how to or want to handle Masuyo caring about my wellbeing.

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, trying to keep my voice level. I wasn’t sure if I succeeded or not, but I _tried_ dammit.

“It’s not a problem.”

Trying wasn’t the same as succeeding. _You fucking liar_. “Stop it.”

“Huh? Stop what?”

“Stop _lying_ to me,” I hissed. “Stop it.”

“I’m not… I don’t understand?”

“I don’t want your _goddamn charity_! I don’t want it or need it!”

“J-June…”

“I was fine when Mom was only good for a bed to sleep in, and I’ll be fine now that she’s dead and you’re doing it instead. Just… just _stop worrying about me_ and get out of my life, okay?” Fuck, she was crying. I didn’t mean to… _Fuck_. “I’m going out for a walk.”

“June, please… It’s almost dark. It’s not _safe_.”

“I’ll be fine. I just… I need some fresh air. Go study your nursing books or something.” _Do something that matters instead of worrying about me_.

I grabbed my bag and left, doing my best to ignore that she was still crying when I walked past.


	5. Penny 1.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that, you say? We haven't had any real action since 1.2? Well, I guess I'll just have to rectify that.
> 
> Also, it's kinda funny how rare it is to get comments on AO3, yet I've gotten quite a few on SB. It's weird how different communities is like that.

The moment I was outside the apartment and sure I was alone, I pulled on my mask, wrapped myself in the coins needed for flight, and took off. I wasn’t in the air for long though—my mask had all but flown off. I quickly descended, grabbed the domino mask from where it had fallen, and pressed it into my face. The problem was easy to identify but left me unsure how to proceed. The adhesive was almost entirely spent, so without something to tie it on securely enough to not fall off mid-flight, it was a wash. That meant I needed to replace it.

The thought of finding Tammi and robbing her for another was humorous to think about but quickly discarded. Tracking her down would be damn near impossible, and if I was being honest with myself, my victory last time had relied more than a bit on surprise and luck. _I should really figure out what her cape name is when I can… Wouldn’t want to blurt it out by accident, else I’ll have nothing to hold over her and keep mine secret._

Most capes I knew of wore some variety of mask that covered the eyes and had a variety of shapes and sizes, but where would I get one that would fit and stay on? I knew a few capes from back home who used full face helmets, like what a motorcyclist wore, but the thought of wearing something like that reminded me too much of the feeling of being unable to escape the trunk and sent a shiver up my spine.

 _I suppose I could just not wear a mask?_ I mockingly thought. _Just kidding. That’s fucking stupid. Nobody sane would do that._

No, it seemed to me that the best choice was a mask that covered the lower half of my face. Something like what Miss Militia, the cape I’d seen earlier at the Boardwalk, or Butcher used. Not the recently killed one, Butcher XIII—he wore a mask that covered the eyes, I think. The new one, Butcher XIV, wore a mask that left everything from the eyes up exposed, or so I’d heard. Something like that would work well and would hide the freckles dusting my cheeks, which were probably one of the main distinctive features I had. I knew exactly where to go to get the perfect mask too. Holding my soon-to-be-replaced mask to my face, I took off into the air. 

Darkness had started to descend over the city, but it hadn’t quite taken hold yet. The twilit sky provided some degree of illumination over the buildings below, leaving one half of each stained red and the other side in shadows. The sounds of city life had dwindled as well but were still present as cars crawled across the pavement and people walked to and fro, resembling ants more than humans from up here. _Yeesh, hello newfound feelings of superiority. Careful you don’t get your head stuck in the clouds while you’re up there, eh?_ I started moving roughly north toward the Boardwalk, where Aisha and I had passed a store earlier that specialized in accessories like hats, jewelry, and scarves. The mannequin in the window there had been sporting, among other things, an attractive silver, metallic looking scarf that had practically shone in the afternoon sun. My new mask.

I was surprised when I quite quickly passed a bubble of light and sound I recognized as Palanquin. I hadn’t realized Masuyo lived so close to the club. Which actually meant if I had searched a bit further west last night, then I might not have met the capes at Palanquin. I ground to a halt mid-air in surprise when my thoughts about masks and Palanquin collided. Gregor and Newter hadn’t worn masks, which made sense when you were so distinctive you made them pointless, but Faultline had met me _without her mask on_. Did that mean something? It seemed like it had to, but I couldn’t figure out what. I pondered that while continuing towards the Boardwalk, but by the time I reached my destination, I was no closer to an answer than I’d been when I started, so I set the matter aside. I’d just have to hope it didn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

The sun had completely retreated behind the hills by that point, leaving the street lamps and shop lights to illuminate the still somewhat busy looking Boardwalk. Out over the dark, ominous waters of the bay, the glowing oil rig the local Protectorate heroes had emerged from earlier shone brightly. I hadn’t given the place much thought earlier, distracted by good company, but that place had to be the headquarters for the local Protectorate and Wards. It didn’t make sense for it to be anything else with the forcefield and light bridge alone much less with how _pretty_ it looked, all imposing towers, elegant arches, and colorful spotlights. Brockton Bay knew how to give its heroes fancy digs—I had to give it that much. I idly considered flying closer to check it out with my power in addition to my eyes, since I couldn’t feel anything from so far out, but I could all too easily see myself getting shot out of the air or— _shudder_ —given a recruitment pitch.

Sorry, Brockton Bay, but the only way I’d go hero was if Legend himself personally asked me to, and even then, I’d have to think about it.

Still, the proximity of the heroes meant I needed to play smart, not go in guns blazing or to show myself before I was ready. A good thief controlled any interaction with the mark from start to finish. I kept myself high enough up that I figured I would be difficult to see against the dark sky but low enough I could still see each store’s sign, then I began searching for the shop I had in mind. I found it before long, but rather than going straight for it, I backed away a block into the somewhat more dimly lit street a block away before bringing myself lower. Instead of going all the way down into the closest alley, I brought myself down to the roof of the shop across the street from the boutique and perched on the ledge facing the store. This side of it faced into the city instead of the wooden boardwalk and the bay, but I figured it might have mannequins with the same accessories on this side too. No dice, unfortunately, and I didn’t detect anything with my power that resembled a scarf in shape either. I hadn’t _actually_ expected the scarf to be made of metal, but I was glad I had checked. I would have felt very foolish later if I had realized I could have just used my power to directly retrieve the scarf instead of indirectly.

I glanced at the people below to verify nobody was looking up, then I quickly crossed the distance over to the store. I made my way to the other side of the roof and peeked over to check for any Enforcers, finding only two in sight. More importantly, they had metal on them. The usual stuff like pant buttons were a given, but each also had metal bars of some kind and steel toed boots. It was hard to tell exactly, but the bars felt roughly two feet long and didn’t seem to be… full, I guess was the best way to put it. It felt like multiple pieces of metal stacked, so I tentatively identified them as collapsible batons, given who I was dealing with. Below me I sensed some much, much smaller metal rings collected together in a way that indicated they were the hand displays showing off rings, which meant the scarf was just a bit to my left. Wait, no—my right. I’m facing away from the window instead of towards it.

Conveniently this store was on the end of a strip, so I took some of the coins I had left in my backpack because I wasn’t using them and shunted them over the roof towards the alley between this strip of stores and the one adjacent. I was all set to plow through the glass with a barrage of coins, when some other metal objects in the store gained my attention. Namely, a couple pieces that kept periodically ejecting a part of themselves out once every other minute or so before that part was pushed back into the whole—cash registers were the only thing that made sense. They were roughly against the side of the shop that was the exterior of the strip, and underneath them was something _heavy_ that had a separate but connected circle on its front.

 _A safe_. I had heard tale of a few safe cracker jobs back home, but I’d never been on one myself. Those kinds of jobs weren’t the kind of work that you got in on as a fifteen-year-old unless somebody you knew was already on the job, and even then, you had to be _good_. A safe was either a goldmine or a fool’s errand, depending on when and how often it got emptied. It was a gamble.

It would be easy pickings with my power.

 _So the safe, the cash registers, and the scarf_ , I reviewed, reevaluating my approach. I tentatively reached out with my power and tried to gauge how heavy the safe was. It was definitely far heavier than anything else in the store, I decided, but compared to a shipping container, it was nothing. I’d had trouble in the Boat Graveyard when I tried to control that second container, but I had no trouble controlling all my coins. It had to be a weight issue of some kind, but it wasn’t clicking exactly how it worked. That meant I would try to move the safe and cash registers first and, if that failed, I would settle for the scarf. It was my original purpose in coming here, anyway.

I spared one last glance towards the luminous oil rig in the distance and, seeing no bridge, I struck. I grabbed the safe and registers with my power and lifted them into the air, drawing a crunching sound I could just barely hear through the roof below me and a couple of screams that I could hear _much_ better. The Enforcers I’d been keeping my eyes on started to move towards the store, and I tugged on their boots, causing them both to fall face first into the wooden boardwalk. Beneath me, I had my coins burst through the glass, drawing even more screams, and had them wrap around the mannequin that should have a single earring and the scarf around its neck before yanking it clear along with any coins I managed to identify. I could have gone for jewelry too, but I had no idea what might be _in_ people’s ears or around their necks, so that was too hazardous. The people who had been running the registers seemed to be frozen in fear if their wobbly but stationary metal was any indication, so with the way clear, I sent the safe hurtling through the nearby wall.

Or I tried to, anyway.

The safe seemed to sink into the wall _a bit_ , but a bit wasn’t, as you might imagine, _through_ the wall. The Enforcers were trying to get up below, so I tugged their feet out from under them again, directed my coins into the alley and up to me, then grit my teeth and slammed the safe into wall again. Then again. It finally went through after the fourth try, which was good, because I had to put the Enforcers down a third time, and I was about ready to give up on the safe and registers. The coins had reached the roof by this point, and I grabbed the scarf off the mannequin as I pulled the registers through the hole in the wall below. With my bounty in tow, I took off into the air, ignoring the couple shouts of “Cape!” from the people below as they noticed me—or maybe just the safe and cash registers—cutting through the air away from the Boardwalk. Behind me, the Protectorate’s HQ hadn’t stirred. Perhaps a minute flat, and I was out.

_Perfect._

* * *

So I had a minor problem. An oversight, really, in the planning phase of my robbery. I hadn’t considered what to _do_ with the money in the safe and registers.

I couldn’t really add the coins to my growing collection, since my bag was mostly full as it was, and there was a respectable amount of bills between the registers and the safe, once I’d ripped them all open with my power. There was no way I could store the money at Masuyo’s apartment. Even if I’d had my own room, there was no way I could explain where I had acquired this much money if Masuyo found it. That meant I needed to find somewhere else to put it that nobody was likely to stumble upon.

My thoughts initially went to Palanquin. Faultline had referred to her team as being mercenaries, so they _probably_ wouldn’t blink if I showed up with cash looking for somewhere to stash it. Might demand a portion of it, since I was a… prospective member, I guess. I didn’t mind that so much, especially if she was actually going to deliver on the signing bonus she’d mentioned. Problem was she reminded me of some of the people I’d worked with back home who were strict about when and where ‘business’ was performed. She might have specified tomorrow as the meet-up because that was the next day she’d cleared Palanquin for dubious activities. It was a risk, and I would rather risk losing this money than losing ten grand. That meant Palanquin was out.

I considered the abandoned docks where Tammi and I had fought but, yeah… _no_. If I never saw that place again, it’d be too soon. Still, thinking of the abandoned docks reminded me that when I’d been examining that map a few days back I had also seen train tracks extending out of the north and northwest ends of the city. I didn’t know for sure if they were still in use, but given how close they were to the docks, I was willing to bet they’d fallen out of use when the shipping industry had dried up as well. It was a possibility, anyway, so I decided to head up that way to check.

I tossed Tammi’s mask with its spent adhesive into my backpack and tied my new mask— _This is_ my _mask!_ —securely around my face, leaving only my eyes and my still unfortunately short hair visible. _At least it’s long enough to be considered a pixie cut. Where’s a cape with hair growing powers when you need one?_

While flying north looking for the train tracks, I noticed something crazy—or rather, three somethings. Three monstrous _hell-beasts_ as large as vans came into sight below me, tearing down the street at speed. For a moment, I thought they were racing at me, and I tensed, already reaching out to what metal I could find in the area. Thankfully, the creatures pivoted and started heading vaguely west, seeming to not see me at all. It was hard to tell from as high up as I was, but now that they weren’t at the edge of my sight, I got a better look and found they were lizard-like. They kinda seemed like crazy muscular and agile versions of those Australian whatever-they’re-called dragons. Well, whatever they were, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with them and whatever cape—because a cape was obviously involved—made them. _Or are they the capes? I mean, I’ve already run into two capes who aren’t totally human…_ Regardless, I climbed a bit higher into the sky as I continued along my way, doing my best to make note of the area in case the cape— _or capes_ —frequented this place.

Eventually I spotted the tracks up ahead and began to descend. It was impossible to say for sure with the darkness and how far away from the docks I was, but they did seem to run that way. I decided to mark ‘railroad runs to docks’ as a ‘maybe’ and began trying to search for a good place to make a cache. Unfortunately, this area was leaps and bounds worse than any part of the city I’d seen so far, spare the docks. Though there were a few lights on here and there, vast swaths were shrouded in blankets of darkness that made it difficult at best to distinguish any details about the various buildings. What little I could see was mostly boarded up haphazardly, in complete disrepair, or both. It was disorienting. I barely felt like I was still in Brockton Bay. Not that what I had seen up until now was in _good_ shape—principal among them the dumpster that was Winslow—but if Winslow was a dumpster, then this place was a dumpster _fire_.

That was of course the moment a literal burst of fire shot into the sky a block away.

 _This goddamn city, man_.

When I turned to face the source, I found I could just barely see a crowd of people over there. One deep, booming voice was yelling furiously at the rest of them, but I couldn’t actually understand what was being said from this far away—just that he was real pissed off.

It wasn’t a huge gout of flames, barely visible from over here and only because of how dim it was, but my curiosity was stoked regardless. I almost started flying over straight away, but then I remembered I was still holding onto the safe in which I had piled all the contents of the registers before abandoning them. I glanced around. _This place looks so abandoned, that I could probably stash it on any old roof…_ I quickly examined the area, but found that none of the nearby roofs looked like they might actually be able to support the weight of it. Shrugging, I took off towards the area where I’d seen the flame, bringing it with me. _I can always stash it later._

As I grew closer, I didn’t find any active fires, but I did find a tall, shirtless dude with a deep, accented voice and dragon tattoos covering most of his exposed skin who was yelling furiously at some other guys, all of whom were all wearing various combinations of red and green and cowering before him. And with good reason—he was clearly a cape of some kind. I could feel the metal mask he was wearing, even if I couldn’t see it, but more importantly, metal scales were slowly emanating out from the middle of his back.

“I don’t care about your excuses! They are _less_ than worthless!”

The red and green flagged the men as ABB, the one gang I focused on in my limited research time before moving to Brockton Bay. Flames lighting up the sky near here? A tall guy with scales? There was only one person this could be.

“Thieves have stolen from us, and you don’t even know how many there were or what they look like! Failures, all of you!”

This was _Lung_. I needed to get out of here _now_ , before this could get worse.

No sooner had the thought entered my mind, a man appeared next to Lung wearing a red demon mask and tight, black outfit that had oblong metal spheres strung along its front that I couldn’t make out. Literally appeared. One moment he wasn’t there, the next he was kneeling at the leader of the ABB’s side, his head bowed in deference and his arm up and pointing— _at me_.

Lung whipped around in an instant to face me, the two glowing orange eyes set in his full face metal mask locking onto me.

_Oh fuck me._

I immediately turned to fly away, but then something was on me _what the fuck_. Metal spheres—the teleporter?

“Stop running and submit.”

“Fuck you!” I adjusted for the added weight even as the weight increased and I felt more spheres on top of me.

I felt Lung jump into the air, and I chucked the safe at where I guessed he would land based on the arc of his jump. More metal spheres appeared above me, the weight increasing, then _something_ was in my eyes. _Shitfuck why?!_

I would have missed with my initial toss of the safe, but even blind, I could feel where Lung was based on his scales and mask. Ditto for— _for fuck’s sake, what is going on with this teleporter? More of the smoke. Or is it ash? I keep feeling metal appearing and disappearing, but what does that mean?_ The second burst of whatever the shit blinding me was nearly made me lose my concentration, but I managed to course correct the safe. Not that it mattered, since Lung dodged at the last second, even though it had been coming from behind. _Does he have boosted perception or something too? For fuck’s sake, is turning into a healing metal rage lizard that can shoot fire not enough for you, you overpowered prick?_

“Give up. You cannot win,” the teleporter said _directly into my ear_.

“Get off of me!” I shrieked. Just like at school, I could tell the ABB members on the ground had weapons, so I grabbed them and pulled them up towards me as fast as I could, ignoring the shouts of the unpowered mooks. Lung leapt again, this time _towards me_ , and I pushed myself sideways in an attempt to dodge. Another cloud of smoke-ash burst, and I regrettably inhaled some of it, causing me to start hacking and coughing. One of the weapons felt like a gun while the rest appeared to be knives, so I tugged the gun to me while flinging the knives at Lung. He dodged most of them, but I forcefully redirected one to an area that, based on what I could feel, I presumed was the an area of his body not covered in scales yet. He howled with fury, and I wasn’t honestly sure if that meant I had hit him or if he was pissed that I had tried to. The gun slapped into my hand, and an arm wrapped around my neck in sync with another weight settling on me. Already oxygen deprived from coughing up the smoke-ash, I gasped for air, which just resulted in yet more of the mystery substance getting into my lungs when another set of the metal spheres vanished.

I weakly aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. Nothing—the safety was still on. I had no time to find it, so I reached out blindly. I grabbed the safe and sent it hurtling _at me_. The spheres reappeared a roof over this time, and I was still being choked. _That’s it_ , I dimly noted. _He not just a teleporter—he’s cloning himself._

Lung leapt at me instead this time, apparently not daunted by the safe. I felt his scales flex and swipe at the safe as if to strike it out of the way, then I sprung my trap with a cry of, “Joke’s on you, asshole!”

I had figured he would be the sort to try and brute force his way through a problem and had already merged the coins into the body of the safe to give me more material to work with. Once he was on top of it, I tore it asunder and wrapped it around him in an globe. The teleporter on top of me vanished, blessedly freeing me from the choke hold but unfortunately shrouding me in smoke-ash again. I shoved myself down towards the roof and away from the two of them but kept my attention on Lung, knowing I wouldn’t get a second chance at this—he wouldn’t be fooled a second time. Lung roared, though the sound was muffled by the metal I had almost completely enclosed him in, then suddenly there was _heat_. Finally out of the cloud, I could breath and see once more, and I watched as the orb I was making changed color to orange in seconds, my work being reduced to liquid.

_I can still control it! C’mon, it’s not over yet!_

I finished the globe with the molten metal, then pushed it _elsewhere_.

I felt the metal spheres appear behind me before I heard him—the teleporter was striking again. I wouldn’t know for precious seconds if Lung was really trapped or not, but there was no rest for the wicked. I _shoved_ the spheres into the teleporter as forcefully as I could, drawing a grunt from him as I felt another of him appear to my left. The instant I felt the spheres, I was shoving him again, but this time I pushed down as well as away, smashing him into the roof. The first hurled a knife at me, which I diverted towards the second instead, only for a third to appear to my right. The first vanished in a cloud of ash—definitely ash—and I turned my attention to the second while shoving the third to the ground like the second. The knife sank into the second’s leg as he reached up to his chest and pulled something metal out of one of the spheres. What was…?

 _Oh shit_.

I clamped down on the _goddamn frag grenade_ with my power and yanked the third up from the ground by his costume and held him between us even as a fourth appeared behind me. I felt the grenade explode, but thankfully my power was apparently proof against the most of the effect of a frag grenade. The internal explosion still happened, if the force I felt push against me holding it in place was any indication, but other than a grunt of pain from the second, there was no huge, painful explosion. The third tried to pull two pins from the grenades strapped to his chest, but I was able to hold the pins in place this time, now that I knew what he was doing. I felt the fourth try to lunge at me from behind while a fifth appeared high above me—maybe fifteen feet?—and a sixth appeared a moment later a bit further away this time. I pushed away the fourth and fifth, and tugged the pins out of the sixth’s grenades. He must have noticed because he hurriedly began to rip the bandolier from his costume while the third disappeared, and feeling no new clones appear, I took the brief reprieve to find the safety on the gun still in my hand. I flicked it off as he tossed away the bandolier and when I felt the seventh appear, identifying him by his knives this time, I whipped the gun around and shot.

I hadn’t had time to brace like people did in movies, and I quickly realized why they did it. Pulling the trigger resulted in a powerful kickback that threw my aim wildly off course and sent pain lancing up my unprepared arm, but even though the bullet missed by a mile—and I _could_ feel it while it moved!—the teleporter apparently decided he wasn’t going to win this fight and bailed, clones appearing in a pattern moving away from the area by rooftop. The ones near me collapsed into ash, and the sphere around Lung was still in place, the glow of molten metal lighting up the area.

 _I actually did it…_ I flew over to the edge of the roof and tossed the gaping ABB members a big, shit eating grin—not that they could see it, I realized in hindsight. “Can the ABB capes beat me in a two-on-one fight? Magic Lung ball says: ‘Outlook not so good.’ Catch you later, losers!”

I flew off into the sky, giggling at their indignation. Totally not maniacally because I’d gotten by on the skin of my teeth. Definitely not that.


	6. Penny 1.6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author notes at the end!

School was pretty boring on the average day, but there was something especially boring about school the morning after a fight for my life with the ABB. I honestly debated bailing again, but I had already gotten enough crazy looks last night when I arrived back at the apartment in sweaty and rumpled clothes. If Masuyo got a call from the school right now, then she might decide I wasn’t worth the trouble and toss me out. If everything worked out with Faultline, then I’d be okay with risking that, but until I had a guarantee of a different roof over my head, I wasn’t about to take the risk of living on the street.

The one good thing about going to school was I had Computer Science on my MWF schedule. My middle school had a similar program I had taken for the chance of having extra computer access—a precious commodity in my experience—and apparently this class covered the same material. That meant I was able to finish up early and do a bit of research on PHO, Parahumans Online, about the local gangs’ capes. I navigated to the site and started with checking out the ABB first, where I confirmed there was nothing on Lung’s wiki about boosted perception. Was I wrong about him having that, or was it just an unreported power? It seemed equal parts plausible and implausible. On the one hand he had so many powers that what’s one more at the end of the day, but on the other hand, did he steal the whole goddamn bucket of powers when they were being handed out or something?

In any case, I also found some info on the teleporter. Oni Lee, a known serial suicide bomber, and that was headache inducing to wrap my mind around. Every time he had teleported last night, the person left behind had burst into ash after a few seconds. That tracked with the info on the wiki, but… Did he teleport and leave a clone _behind_ , or was the clone what remained and the original Lee died the first time he used his power? Was he actually somehow aware of and in control of all the versions of him, so it became functionally pointless? All of the Lees I fought last night had acted independently, so I was inclined to think there wasn’t an overarching control just because how could _anyone_ process all of that… Then again, I was somehow a human metal detector and could move shit with my mind. Powers were grade A bullshit that made no logical sense, so who was to say?

More important than reading about the ABB though, I had finally looked up the E88. It took me a bit to read through all the E88 capes’ wikis, in particular the descriptions of publicly known powers, but I eventually found that Tammi’s cape name was Rune. More importantly, however, I realized the E88 had a _fuckton_ of capes. Ten active capes, another active but never with E88 underlings, and four more in alleged retirement? What gang has that much firepower?! A quick count of the active Protectorate and Wards, the heroes younger than eighteen-years-old, showed there were fourteen altogether. That meant Brockton Bay had so many nazi capes that they literally outnumbered the government funded heroes. Just… just _what the fuck_.

And one of those nazis _knew my name_.

 _I am so fucked_ , I thought, struggling to keep my cool and not have a public freakout in the middle of class. Naturally, a loud ringing noise pierced the calm, relative quiet of the computer lab, which startled me badly enough that I almost started to pulverize everything with my coins. Fortunately I kept my backpack zipped up in the school to avoid wandering eyes, so all I accomplished at first was my bag awkwardly stretching its seams to the breaking point and lifting into the air. That stayed my hand long enough for me to realize the noise was just the bell for the end of class—and blessedly my _last_ class—so I dropped my power. The resulting _thwump_ of who only knows how many pounds of coins hitting the floor drew some eyes my way, which I pointedly ignored in favor of logging out of the computer and getting the hell out of there. I had an appointment to get ten grand and, hopefully, some goddamn backup in case the _fifteen_ _capes_ in the Empire— _Oh shit, probably the two in the ABB too! Fuuuck_ —decided they wanted me dead. Or alive, for that matter. Neither sounded particularly appealing.

I slipped into the hallway, which quickly devolved into a morass as everyone left their final classes. Thankfully, my locker wasn’t terribly far away, and after shoving my textbooks inside, I made a beeline for the closest exit. I probably would’ve been out the door and on my way to Palanquin in under two minutes, but I was distracted by my power sensing something odd. And by something odd, I mean something that _was not possible_. Even though my powers were only two days old, it was still strangely natural to align the metal I sensed with what I was seeing. Take the three gangbangers in the empty classroom at the end of the hallway. I couldn’t _see_ them, but I could distinctly feel the three metal rectangles with blades concealed inside—switchblades, had to be—as surely as if I had my hand on each blade, and every other piece of metal in the room was unnaturally still. Not that I had three hands, but… Okay, analogy broken— _whatever_. The point was, I could feel with acute clarity where they were, and I could see the classroom, so ‘there are three probable gangbangers in that classroom down there’ was obvious to me. And that sort of observation made sense too. Gangbangers huddling together to discuss knifing someone, selling drugs, or whatever they do in an empty classroom? Yeah, sure, everything’s kosher.

Several pieces of metal being pulled through a locker door and everything being left _intact_? That _was not possible_.

Almost unconsciously, I turned away from the exit and— _oof_ , okay, it turns out stopping in the middle of the hallway while everyone was trying to leave wasn’t exactly a great idea. I stumbled a bit and tried to keep my balance by tugging my backpack in the opposite direction, but that was a stupid mistake. I had forgotten how little fine control I had and completely overcompensated, yanking myself backward and falling onto my ass and my lumpy, hard backpack. Several students nearby snickered, though a few looked concerned and one or two looked confused. I flushed and rose to my feet, careful not to flash anyone since I was wearing a skirt. One Vietnamese boy wearing red and green leered at me, and I sneered back, not wanting anything to do with someone in the ABB.

I grabbed my backpack, careful to only use my power enough to make the coins inside weightless this time, and ran off in the direction of the person carrying the pieces of metal that had been pulled through the locker door. It was an odd collection of metal, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. One piece was a rod with an oval loop at the end, and there was a pair of hinges and a latch, but there were three pieces that had me confused. They had regularly spaced holes along each of them and what seemed to be levers over each hole that cover the opening if engaged, and one of the pieces had a bigger hole separate from the rest with a raised oval of metal lining it. I tried to imagine it, but even though I vaguely felt like I should recognize it, a mental image of the items eluded me. 

Whoever had the items didn’t seem to be in a tremendous hurry, so I thankfully caught up quickly enough. As the back exit by the dumpsters came into sight, it happened _again_. The items were pushed straight through the side of what I was pretty sure was a dumpster and then stopped moving altogether. The person who did it started to leave, their phones— _Maybe I’m misjudging one of the items… Why would someone have two phones?_ —bouncing along with their steps. I rushed over and looked through the inserted glass windows in the doors. What I felt lined up with the only person nearby, a tall black girl with straight brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, so she had to be the person I was looking for. 

I pushed open the door and curiously called out, “How did you do that?”

The girl whirled around and fixed me with a burning glare. “The fuck you talking about?”

“You… um…” I started to say before trailing off, my thoughts catching up with my words and realization dawning. _Oh shit, I’m an idiot_. The girl had powers! And I had just called her out on it while she wasn’t wearing a mask. _The last thing I need is another Tammi situation. Abort, abort!_ “You know what? I’m just gonna head back inside now. Bye!”

“Hold up!” she shouted at me, but I was already fleeing back inside. _Holy shit, she’s fast_ , I noted as I looked for somewhere to hide. The girl had been a good distance from the door when I’d called out, a bit more than a hundred feet maybe, but she’d already closed half the distance. I ducked into an empty classroom on my right, but that was a terrible place to hide since it was one of the obvious first places to look, so I immediately crossed over to the window, tugged off my backpack, and unzipped it. Coins flooded out at my command and carried my mask in their wake. I had no time to tie it on though, since the cape had dashed up the stairs and was flinging open the door. I held it over my face with one hand while hastily preparing to fly with my coins, tossed open the window with my other, then climbed through with my backpack in hand. Apparently luck was on my side in that moment, since she ran to the room on the opposite side of the hall first, so I was able to safely make my way through and lift up into the air. By the time she got to the classroom I’d used and ran over to the window, I was already on the roof, not bothering to fight back a grin as I watched her lean out the window and look back and forth.

“… fuck … she go? … far,” I could just barely make out from up here, only catching pieces of what she said. Her head vanished back inside, and I felt her make her way further into the school, moving back and forth between rooms.

“Well that was close,” I muttered as I returned my attention to the items in the dumpster. My curiosity getting the better of me again, I grabbed a hold and tugged them up out of the dumpster, and they moved in sync with each other. I resisted the urge to facepalm when I the small, black instrument case. “It’s a flute!”

But why would the cape put it in a dumpster? She could have been getting rid of evidence, but that seemed unlikely. She _had_ pulled it through a locker door—was she a thief? Hiding something stolen would’ve made sense if she had been expecting to be confronted about it—I had done the same a few times—but usually the idea was to play it cool when approached, and her reaction had been anything but. A bendable plastic tube was attached to the case by looping through itself, and the other end was looped around an old leather name tag with an insert. I carefully examined it, wary of getting filth on my hands, and though some trash had seeped into it, I could still somewhat make out the name _Annette Hebert_ in fancy script. I briefly debated whether I should keep and sell it myself, but I still didn’t have a fence in Brockton Bay. I could sell it to a pawn shop, but they kept records of their sellers, and I didn’t want this Annette to be able to track me down. I also didn’t have a fake ID for _June_ instead of my deadname yet, and I would sooner shout from the rooftops that I was a parahuman than do any form of business by my deadname.

_Maybe I’ll get a reward if I return it?_

I didn’t want to risk flying back down and being spotted, so I stashed my coins and mask once again and made my way over to the roof access door. It was locked, because life just couldn’t be that simple, but fortunately it was one of those doors with a push bar. The bar being on the inside was no deterrent—I simply pulled it towards me as gently as I could and tugged the door open by hand. My good fortune continued when I found an old tarp on the landing inside. There was no way in hell I was touching the filthy flute case I had been levitating with my bare hands, after all. I set the flute on the ground with my power, set down my backpack, and withdrew some of the coins. I couldn’t make a knife with my power, per se, but using the mass of a few coins to fashion a vaguely pointy shaped lump of metal wasn’t too hard. I used that to stab and cut at the tarp until I had a decent sized hunk torn off, molded the lump into a metal sphere, then made my way down the stairs with the lump in my bag and the handle of the flute case, now wrapped in tarp, in hand.

It took me a bit to find my way back towards where the locker had been, since I was coming from an unfamiliar direction, and by that time most of the students had cleared out. That made the half circle of giggling girls around the area where I recalled the locker being all the more obvious. In the middle of the group with their back to the lockers was a person—I couldn’t readily distinguish a gender—with long, curly black hair and glasses in a drab hoodie and jeans, who was facing a curvy redheaded girl. 

“P-Please, Emma,” the black-haired person stammered, looking and sounding like they were seconds away from crying. “Just give it back!”

The redhead, Emma apparently, smiled while tucking a lock of her long hair behind her ear. At least, I thought that’s what the cruel, mocking upturn of her lips was supposed to be. “Oh Taylor, how many times do I have to tell you? How would I know anything about where you misplaced your mom’s flute? You really should keep better track of your valuables.”

I frowned a bit. Had she said ‘Taylor’? The name tag had said the flute belonged to an ‘Annette Hebert,’ but then, the bitch _had_ said it belonged to Taylor’s mother. That might actually be a good thing. Adults were more likely than teens to give rewards for returned items. “Yo,” I called out while walking over. “What’s your mom’s name?”

The girls in the circle stared at me, clearly nonplussed, and Emma grit her teeth tellingly at the sight of the flute in my hand, but I only had eyes for Taylor, whose eyes widened at the sight of the flute case, her mouth dropping open somewhat. After a moment, they managed to get a hold of themself and reply, “Annette. My mom’s name was Annette.”

 _“Was”? Yikes, not touching that with a ten foot pole_ , I thought while indicating the flute by holding it up just a little. _I guess I’m banking on sentimentality._ “Then I guess this is yours. The case is a little… gross though. May want to check inside—I didn’t look at anything but the name tag.”

“Thank you so much!” Taylor exclaimed as they push past some of the girls and rushed over. Having heard them speak a bit more and finally seeing them up close, I suspected they were a girl, but I decided to withhold judgment until I heard them say one way or the other. Because _damn_ did they dress androgynously. Actually, I wasn’t even sure androgynous was the right word for their fashion sense. They looked more like they were trying to blend into the wall than anything else. Body type fell solidly into androgynous, though it was hard to tell through those clothes. Face seemed feminine. The only real thing of note about them was their hair, which I was firmly jealous of. “Yes, that’s it! Where did you find it?”

“In the dumpster out back,” I replied as I handed it over, taking care to pass it by the part covered in tarp. I purposefully avoided mentioning the cape for the moment, since the more distance I could put between myself and her, the better. The last thing I needed was her recognizing me and asking questions about how I’d up and vanished out from under her nose.

“Well, it looks like Taylor’s got herself a friend,” the bitch sneered as she stalked over. “Careful you don’t end up pushing this one away too. It’s not like anybody else in school can stand to be around you.” I’d been halfway through opening my mouth to point out that it was hard to be somebody’s friend when I had only just met them, but hearing that last bit gave me pause. I might have written it off as hyperbole, but Taylor’s flinch at the remark was damning. _Really? Nobody at all?_ When Taylor didn’t verbally reply the bitch tsked, spun on her heel, and stalked off. “Do try to be more careful with your mom’s things. They’re all you’ve got left of her now, after all.”

My eyebrows rose at that guts it would take to say that in casual conversation, and the rest of the girls dispersed as well. “Well. She seems like a right cunt.” Taylor’s head jerked towards me, her jaw mouth hanging open once more. “Still, if you don’t actually play in the band, it might be best to not keep that here if it’s that important to you. Winslow has proved to be nothing more than a dump so far.”

They visibly shook away their surprise—not used to swearing?—and asked, “Are you… new here?”

“Yuuup,” I replied, dragging out the word and popping the ‘p.’

“Then you don’t…” They sighed and started to walk away. “Thank you again, but, you shouldn’t have stood up for me. Just keep your distance.”

I’d been ready to ask about a reward, but listening to them say that with such abject dejection made the words die on my lips. Taylor trudged over to the closest women’s bathroom— _Going with ‘girl’_ —to presumably wash off the case, and I decided to just let things be. I was about to make ten grand, so it wasn’t worth being pushy with someone so down on their spirits. Instead I turned back the way I came, made my way back to the roof, and retrieved my coins and mask from my bag.

I had an appointment to keep.

* * *

If the flaring lights and thrumming beat had made Palanquin seem alive the first time I visited it at night, then the utter lack of noise and movement made the nightclub dead in comparison now during the day.

Palanquin hadn’t yet come to life yet if the utter lack of noise and movement was any indication, but there was still a bouncer guarding the entrance. Seemed like it was the same guy, actually. Not that I interacted with him last time, what with having entered the club through the loading dock. The card I’d been given my first night here said to be here by 5p, and I didn’t need to check my analog watch to know it read 4:52—one of the silly, tiny perks of my power. I touched down on the sidewalk a handful of yards away from the bouncer and crossed the rest of the distance on foot. Once I was closer, the bouncer pulled open the door and held it for me, clearly expecting my arrival. “Boss is in her office. Please wait on the balcony, and I’ll let her know you’re here.”

I gave him a brief nod and murmured, “thanks,” as I stepped inside. Having a guy hold the door for me made a small warmth blossom in me. It was silly and not at all feminist, but it felt still felt like validation, even if he hadn’t probably meant it that way. 

The interior of the club was well lit, but even if the lights had been dim, it would have been hard to miss the balcony stairs much less Newter as he waved at me with a grin while leaning against the balcony. “Yo! You came!”

I started walking towards him with a grin of my own, not that he could see it through my new mask, and replied, “Well yeah, of course I did. How’s it hanging, Newter?”

He flipped over the balcony guardrail, slapped his hands on the base of the balcony, and swung underneath it before somehow clinging to the underside of the balcony. “Well now that I’m hanging, all seems fine,” he answered with a chuckle.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me, his humor infectious. “Awesome! I didn’t realize you could do that too!”

He winked. “There’s a lot more to me than meets the eye.”

The innuendo made me blush a bit, and I couldn’t quite meet his eye as I diverted, “So, um, where is everybody else?”

“Boss is in her office, and I know Gregor’s hanging around here somewhere.” He launched off the ceiling straight to the floor and landed with preternatural grace. He bowed with a flourish and gestured towards the stairs. “Ladies first.”

 _Goddamn traitorous body_ , I bemoaned, fighting down the urge to self-consciously pull my mask up a bit higher to hide my burning cheeks. “Actually, um, I can fly now.” _Ugh, that came out sounding like a question, stupid!_ I lifted myself up into the air as a demonstration, which elicited a whistle from him.

“Hot damn, that’s nifty. I was wondering why you had all those coins on you. Thought it was just a costume thing. I like the new mask, by the way.”

“Thanks! Flying is _so cool_!” I pulled the coins wrapped around me out over the empty dance floor, and feeling frisky, I pulled out the rest of my coins as well. I actually needed relatively few coins over all to fly, so I was able to easily fill most of the voluminous space over the floor with metal and set them all to swirling through the air. 

“Right on! Hang tight a sec, let me get the lights,” Newter said with a laughe before racing over to the DJ stand with a swift burst of speed that reduced him momentarily to an orange blur. “Yo, got any favorites? I can put on some tunes too while we wait on Faultline.”

“Got any AC/DC?”

“Oh hell yeah, you like the classics too?” The lights turned off, briefly leaving the room dark but for some of the evening sunlight pouring in through the windows high up on the walls, but the dance lights kicked in shortly after. Rays of pink, gold, orange, blue, green, and more illuminated the area and made my coins glitter and sparkle as Newter queued up _Back in Black_. As the drummer tapped out the tempo on the cymbal and the guitar entered after with the familiar rift, memories came to mind of nights listening to mom’s old records and hanging out in some of the dive bars back home that would let me in. A smile grew on my face as I drank in the atmosphere, satisfaction settling within me. With just a thought, the coins began to lazily circle the dance floor in a wave, the twirling coins moving like a current at the beach but prettier by measure. This blew skulking about in bars or my own home out of the water by a long shot.

 _I could definitely get used to this_.

“Newter, lights back on,” a voice called out over the music, and when the music cut out and the lights switched back to the basic ones from before, I saw Faultline on the balcony with Gregor slightly behind her and to her right. “Coin,” she continued, a terseness to her voice that made me pause. “We have a lot to talk about. Let’s adjourn to my office.”

“Sure,” I replied as casually as I could. I condensed my loose coins into a pile on the balcony, not bothering with my backpack for the sake of simplicity, and flew over towards the balcony myself. I gave Gregor a tiny wave as I touched down and a, “Heya, Gregor,” which drew a small smile from the man. Faultline once again wasn’t wearing a mask, and I speculated that the staff must know who she was. She spun on her heel and crossed over to a doorway off the balcony, and I followed with Gregor and Newter, who had just jumped up onto the balcony as well, behind me. 

A hallway ran along the other side of the wall, but in stark contrast to the balcony, this area had stone walls. Small micro cracks crossed over sections of the walls, and torches set in sconces were littered evenly along the length of the hallway with alcoves containing strange, creepy busts of angels and demons alike spaced out between them. Standing in the middle of the hallway, staring absently at the wall to our right was a girl with long, platinum blond hair. She was around my height but looked to be a couple years younger than me, and seeing her just standing there, unnaturally still in the midst of the moody atmosphere was somewhat creepy.

“Hello, Elle. I didn’t expect you to be up.” The girl, Elle apparently, didn’t respond to that, but I didn’t hear any impatience in Faultline’s voice at the lack of reply. “Are you okay?” Still no response. “Elle, we have a guest with us today. Would you please reign in your power?”

 _That_ got my attention. Another cape running around unmasked? “So is the creepy layout her power, or did you all decide to get creative with the staff areas?”

Faultline tossed me a brief look over her shoulder, but before I could begin to decipher it, she had turned back to Elle. The girl turned more or less to face us, but she seemed to be focused on something else, her gaze distant and still not saying anything.

I tilted my head, bemused. Was the girl special needs? She certainly seemed to be. I hadn’t been around too many people like that, but I did know that you had to be extra patient when interacting with them. Patience wasn’t exactly one of my virtues, but I resolved to try. No sense not getting along with a soon-to-be teammate.

I paused a beat and debated how to introduce myself. Faultline, Newter, and Gregor had been calling me ‘Coin,’ but I didn’t care for that name that much. It was a serviceable placeholder but too bland and uninteresting to keep. That being said, I hadn’t given any thought to what my cape name should be, so I didn’t have anything picked out yet. I hesitated just a bit to give out my real name, but I _was_ about to join the team, right? And I’d already seen everyone else unmasked, so it seemed natural they would expect me to reciprocate. I reached up to my mask and tugged it down, revealing my cautious smile. “Elle, right? It’s nice to meet you. My name is June.” The gloomy dungeon appearance around us began to bleed away and leave behind a corridor more in line with what I had been expecting when I stepped through the door. The process was fascinating to watch, and at the center of it all, Elle finally seemed to look _at_ me, her gaze somewhat more focused. She still didn’t say anything, but I doubted it was intentional. _Probably… Oh, what is the word? Nonverbal?_

Faultline turned to face me in full. She had a look of surprise in her eyes that quickly settled back into a serious expression I was beginning to think was her usual mien. “I was going to wait until after our discussion to unmask and share names.”

I shrugged. “Didn’t mean to throw off your timing. I’m joining though, so it doesn’t matter, yeah?” At her carefully blank look I tensed, though I did my best to not let it show. “Faultline?”

She sighed. “Yes, that is still my intent, but the nature of the offer I made you was predicated on the assumption that you were a fresh trigger, a tabula rasa in the Bay’s cape scene. At the time I was confident in my assumption because I make it my business to keep an eye out for such things, and I had heard no word of a ferrokinetic.” Her expression shifted a bit, but I couldn’t quite read how. “However, I have reason to believe you stole from a store on the boardwalk between then and now and got into a cape fight. Another fight, if what you said to Gregor Monday is true. That changes things.”

 _Fresh trigger? Tabula rasa? Ferrokinetic?_ “I didn’t understand some of that, but I understood enough to know you’re saying I’m not getting my ten grand,” I said with a scowl as the last of the… environment Elle had made vanished. Had it been a castle? Closest thing I could think of. I bit my lip, thinking of the hormones I wanted to start and how I wanted to get actual independence instead of relying on Masuyo. I had been _counting_ on that money. It was the main reason why I had decided to join! “Maybe I’d be better off solo after all.”

“You wouldn’t be,” she denied, shaking her head, “and that’s one of the things we need to discuss.” She paused a moment, then held out her hand. “Since you gave your name under the impression the original offer stood, it’s only fair I offer my own name in the interest of trust. My name is Melanie Fitts, and I promise that I am not trying to swindle you, June.”

My eyes narrow a bit at that, since that’s _exactly_ what someone trying to swindle me would say and the name could easily be fake. _Still… None of them seem the type to suddenly get all aggressive and force me to join._ I crossed my arms, ignoring her extended hand, and replied, “I don’t like this _at all_ , but I guess it doesn’t hurt to hear the new offer. If I don’t like it, then I’ll walk away, got it?”

Faultline lowered her hand and gave me a curt nod. “Of course. Newter, take Elle back to her room, then join us in my office.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Newter replied, sounding remarkably casual in spite of the terse discussion. I glanced over my shoulder at him, and he shot me a grin and a thumbs up. “Love the freckles, by the way.”

 _Goddammit_. I turned away so he couldn’t see my reaction. “Lead on, yeah?”

Faultline lead Gregor and me to the doorway at the end of the no longer transformed hall, and the office behind the doorway was a strange mixture of cluttered and organized. The heavy oak desk in the center of the room was covered in an eclectic mess of paperwork, heavy books, pens, notepads, and a laptop, but the shelves lining the back wall had a sense of order, even if the books lining them were of a variety of sizes and colors. A pair of short filing cabinets were set against the wall opposite the window, where a pair of thick curtains were drawn and completely blocking all incoming light. Two oak chairs that matched the desk sat between the door and the desk, and I flopped into one while Faultline crossed to the high backed chair on the opposite side. Gregor ignored the remaining chair in favor of standing by the file cabinets. When I looked his way, he gave me what seemed to be a reassuring look, though it was still somewhat difficult to tell with his skin even though the lighting from the overhead lamp was satisfactory.

Faultline leaned back in her chair and gave me her full attention. “Before we begin, would you prefer to go by Coin or June? Or have you chosen a cape name?”

“June. No cape name yet, and I don’t like Coin.”

“June then,” she acknowledged. “I’ll start with explaining a bit about our crew. As I mentioned when we met, we are mercenaries. Anyone can hire our services, and the only jobs we won’t do are those entailing murder or breaking the unwritten rules. Are you familiar with the rules?”

I blinked, perplexed. “Um… There are rules?”

“Yes. Different areas have slightly different variations, but in general the rules are to avoid lethal force, never rape or sexually assault anyone, and respect other capes’ secret identities. There is also a truce during Endbringer attacks, but that doesn’t apply in the day to day.” She must have seen the look on my face at the mention of secret identities because she learned forward with piercing eyes. “June… Have you broken a rule?”

I gulped. “I, um… Kinda?” Her expression darkened, and I hastily explained, “She did it first though!”

“Explain. Do _not_ divulge any secret identities, if you uncovered one.”

I couldn’t help but fidget under the intensity of her gaze. “The day I got my powers… I, um… I was… I didn’t know who she was at the time, but Rune tried to k-kill me. She… she knew who I was, called me by… well, not _my name_ , but…” _She probably doesn’t know what a deadname is. What’s the simplest way to explain?_ “My, um… old name?” That’ll have to do. “ _Anyway_ , I managed to stop her when I got my powers, but she knew who I was and had hunted me down once already…”

“So you unmasked her,” she finished for me. When I nodded, she sighed minutely. “Do not tell me _what_ her name is, if you know it, but please confirm whether you know her name as well.”

“Yeah…”

“Was that _you_ in the video on PHO?” Gregor interjected. “A video was posted of someone in Rune’s costume stealing clothes from a merchant at the Market, but our knowledge of her power is that she must first touch the item to control it.”

I nodded. “She… t-tried to d-drown me in a car,” I only just barely managed to say, shivering at the thought of being trapped in that darkness, gasping for air and choking on water. I quickly moved on, trying to push it out of my mind. “I just moved here Saturday, and I didn’t know how to get to my cousin’s. I was wet and cold and had nowhere to sleep… I stole some clothes and ended up here because it caught my eye.”

“You don’t need to say anything more about your trigger event,” Faultline said, drawing my attention back to her.

There was that word again. “You said something about a ‘trigger’ before too. What does that mean?”

“Think of it like the worst day of your life—a do-or-die moment, pure despair when something awful happens, or something similar. Something about the event ‘triggers’ powers in an individual. Avoiding discussion of trigger events is not an unwritten rule, per se, but it’s considered bad taste to ask about one.” She leaned back in her chair once more, but there was still a measure of focused awareness in her eyes. “There was a robbery of a store on the boardwalk yesterday where several items including a safe and cash registers were lifted by an unseen force and smashed through a wall. I trust that was you?” I nodded hesitantly. “A cape fight between a ferrokinetic and Lung and Oni Lee occurred sometime last night as well. Also you?”

“Right,” I affirmed, putting together from context clues that ‘ferrokinetic’ was probably a description of my powers. “That… I was defending myself, honest!”

“I didn’t say you weren’t. Briefly describe the fight for me. How it started, went, and ended.”

“Um… I was looking for somewhere to stash the safe from the store, and I saw a burst of fire up by the train tracks. I got curious, and when I checked it out, they saw me and attacked. Lee kept trying to dogpile me with clones, and Lung was scary as fuck. I managed to use the metal from the safe to trap Lung, and Lee was easy enough after since I could sense him.”

“Ah… You sensed the metal on him? The grenades and knives?”

“Uh huh.”

“Tell me, June, _why_ do you think Lee was trying to dogpile you?”

That confused me. Why would that matter? “I dunno?”

“You don’t see it?”

“See _what_?”

“June, they wanted to _recruit_ you.”

My jaw dropped. I _had_ been worried I would be recruited by the ABB—it was why I’d paid more attention to them than the Empire at first—but it hadn’t occurred to me _that_ was what they were doing that night. “Shit.”

Her lips twitched into a ghost of a smirk before vanishing so quickly I almost wrote it off as a trick of the mind. “Indeed. I should think it’s needless to say that recruiting you into our group when you have attracted the attention of not just one but _two_ of the city’s big gangs is… a more interesting proposition than recruiting someone who is a relative unknown.”

“So… you _don’t_ care about me making off with the safe and registers?”

“Comparatively no. I’m sure the PRT would not be pleased, but no worse so than they are when we’re paid to perform criminal activities.”

There was a knock at the door. Faultline bade them enter, and Newter came in and sank into the free chair, glancing between Faultline and me. “So what’s the word? Is she joining?”

Faultline steepled her fingers before her. “We were just getting to that. June, my offer is this: You are welcome to join our crew, but I will not be paying a signing bonus. Some of our clients may view hiring you as a risky proposition with the heat from the E88 and ABB, so that money will go towards covering any gap. You _will_ avoid getting into any more cape fights outside of those we encounter on the job. You will still get an equal cut of all work that we take on as a crew, though I will deduct a small portion of your cut until the costs of your costume are covered. Does this all make sense?”

I gave her a careful nod. As much as I hated to admit it, I _did_ see her point. If the gangs still had it out for me, then recruiting me was a gamble for them. That didn’t make it any better that I was losing out on the money, but if the jobs paid enough and I got an equal cut, then I would still have a healthy amount of money coming my way. Plus I would have a team at my back if… no, more likely _when_ the gangs came after me. I worried my lip then asked, “How much money are you paid for the average job? How often do you get them?”

She waggled her hand in a so-so motion. “It’s easier to note that we don’t take jobs that pay less than fifty thou. We generally have a job at least once a month.”

My eyebrows shot up. Faultline, Gregor, Newter, Elle, and me. That meant, “Five way split?”

“Barring more members joining, yes.” I wasn’t great at math, but fifty grand divided by five was easy to figure out. Ten grand minimum every month or so? That was serious money.

Faultline looked considering for a moment before adding, “It’s worth noting that travel is involved on a semi-frequent basis. You mentioned you live with a cousin?”

“Just met her,” I said waving that off. “If you’ve got a place for me here, then I’m outta there.”

“You should not be so quick to abandon family,” Gregor interjected. “Are you certain you wish to cut ties?”

I shrugged. “I’m not saying I’m cutting entirely ties. I’m just saying I’d rather live here, see her only when I want—on my terms.”

“We can spare the room,” Faultline said, the corner of her lips turning up ever so slightly. “You’ll be joining then?”

I grinned. “Definitely.” 

Newter fistpumped the air with a cry of “hell yeah!” and Gregor gave me a small smile. Faultline stood and held out her hand once more.

This time, I shook it without reservation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the last chapter in the arc centered on June. One interlude is up next, then we'll be into the second arc. As I mentioned in an earlier post, this arc has been primarily focused on learning about June as a person. Arc 2 will be focused on June's cape identity and how she fits in with FLC and the cape scene at large. There will definitely be a huge focus on action in the next arc, and I'm really looking forward to that!


	7. Penny 1.z

The girl in the mirror checked over every minute detail for the third time, searching for any imperfections while occasionally glancing the clock on the wall as the second hand ticking down in a constant beat.

06:42 PM

She sucked in a deep breath through her nose and blew it out through her mouth, repeating until she felt a tenuous calm settle over her. It was the sort of calm that almost undoubtedly wouldn’t hold up when the time came, but it was the best she could do, so it would have to be enough. She had been dreading the coming conversation for too long for her anxiety to actually rest until it was done and past, and she was afraid it might not get better even after that.

One of the many domino masks she had been given was affixed to her face, the fresh adhesive holding it securely in place and surrounding her pale blue eyes in darker blue. Her light blond hair flowed down over her shoulders, obscuring some of her spare robe, which felt a bit off on her shoulders. She doubted there was _actually_ a difference between it and the original—more likely just a superstition born from nerves—but it knowing that rationally didn’t change how it felt to wear.

She glanced at the clock again—06:45 PM. She took another deep breath, in and out.

“Showtime,” she muttered before turning and leaving the bathroom. She nearly had a heart attack when she found her cousin—second cousin, really—leaning against the wall of the hallway across from the bathroom door. “Jesus fuck, Nikki, give a girl some warning next time maybe?”

The other girl glared at her balefully, the expression not diminished by the black eyepatch with its white Odal—also known as Othala—rune. “Really? I’m in costume, and you use my _real name_? You’re lucky it’s only Victor and me here, _Rune_.”

Rune winced, clearly abashed. “Right, sorry, Othala. Can we… you know, _not_ do this right now? I’m new, I fucked up, _I get it_. I’ll do better.”

Othala crossed her arms over her chest where her namesake rune was emblazoned on her dark red bodysuit, the black symbol resting within a white circle and a black border. “I’d be more sympathetic if you weren’t making such huge mistakes. Tossing out my real name while I’m in costume, botching the hit Victor gave you to prove yourself...”

Rune studiously looked away. “We need to get going if we’re going to be on time.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

The pair moved together down the short hallway and into the main room of the empty office space where Victor was seated on a stiff, black leather couch waiting. The blond-haired man was garbed in a costume featuring a black breastplate with a v-shaped neckline over a fitted blood red shirt, black pants tucked into black combat boots, and a black domino mask. He stood. “Ready to go, love?” Othala nodded, a grim smile on her face, and he turned to leave without greeting Rune at all. Rune frowned but said nothing, understanding—if not appreciating—why he was giving her the cold shoulder.

The trio made their way to the elevator Rune had used earlier that evening to reach the faux consultation agency on the eighth floor. She didn’t know for sure whether this facility had already been under the Empire’s control when she joined or whether it had been purchased especially for her use after she joined. Although Othala and Victor’s house was not that far away, the building was a mere two blocks away from The Towers, the apartment complex Kaiser had set her and her family up in. More damning was neither Victor or Othala could fly, so they would have no need for a top floor facility and with keypad protected, exclusive access to the lone elevator in the building that could reach said floor and the roof above it. In any case, she was completely unfamiliar with the building beyond what she used it for. She knew some sort of health clinic was on the first floor, but she had been encouraged by Victor to avoid it and all other floors because “even the best security can be fooled by making yourself known,” or so he had said back when he first brought her here.

She had been so pumped and high on life then, everything happening so fast. Triggering and breaking out of juvie, being introduced to Kaiser by her uncle, moving to Brockton Bay, finding out she had parahuman family, getting to design her first costume. It had felt like her life was finally turning around, but then she had been introduced to the rest of the E88’s parahumans, and it all started going down hill. Kaiser, Fenja, Menja, Krieg, Hookwolf, Stormtiger, Cricket, Victor, and Othala—a full _nine_ capes, and that wasn’t even counting the five she had been told were no longer active but were still in the Bay. Nine capes, and the only one who wasn’t an adult was Othala, but she was seventeen and married to Victor. Hookwolf, a savage beast of a man, had sneered at the idea of bringing a teenager into the group, which had prompted Stormtiger and Cricket, who were firmly in his camp, to likewise complain. Kaiser had proposed she prove herself, and she had passed every test thrown her way by the other capes, from being a guard for drug shipments to roughing up shops that hadn’t paid the Empire for protection. The last thing she had needed to do, the lone test proposed by Hookwolf himself, was kill an enemy of the Empire—practically, that meant some random minority.

Which was how Fucking Fujiwara came into the picture.

It should have been easy. Right around the time she’d decided it was time to work on the last test, one of the informants in Victor’s network had turned up a juicy hit. A Japanese boy who had transferred into Winslow High School and not only had the audacity to try and claim he was a girl but had _admitted_ he was really a boy and dressed and acted like a girl _anyway_. Information like this wasn’t important enough to bring up to Kaiser and was normally handled on the ground level, especially as initiation— _her_ initiation this time. The informant had provided the guy’s picture from his school ID and the time classes let out at the school, and Victor had passed it on to Rune with the warning to do it somewhere quiet. Since she didn’t go to school herself on account of being a juvie runaway, she had done a stakeout of the school on the roof. She had expected it to take a few days to actually find the guy amongst the sea of people, but she had lucked out and spotted him that very day. After stalking him to the Market, the guy had actually done her a favor and started heading towards the Boat Graveyard, so she had used her power to borrow a nearby car and kidnap him.

It should have been _easy_. Take a recording of drowning the fag while using her power to hold up the phone. No muss, no fuss, and a recording of her first kill to shove in that bastard Hookwolf’s face at the next meeting. Instead, she had been left broken and beaten, and to make matters worse, the prick had used her stolen costume to embarrass the E88 at the Market. Videos had been on PHO within minutes, and despite the Empire’s best efforts to contain it, the internet had been the internet and kept reposting. The worst part had been how _plausible_ it had all looked, employing her costume and her modus operandi. The voice had been off, but she was a new cape known only by a fledgling reputation and hadn’t been caught on video yet, leaving nothing to compare against. Everybody except the people who knew her had been fooled, and that was a _problem_. One day, one video, and a month’s work had gone straight to hell.

Rune did her best to keep the sour look off of her face when the elevator opened and she stepped inside. The ‘consultation agency’ took up the entirety of the top floor, so it was a short ride to the roof, where the three of them stepped out and passed through a set of double doors secured by another keypad. There, roughly in the middle of the roof, was a large, circular metal platform with a raised railing at its perimeter and arcane characters inscribed around the exterior of its base. It had been a gift from Kaiser upon her joining, and Rune loved it. 

“Fuck.” Seeing the question in Othala’s and Victor’s eyes, she gestured at her gift. “I just remembered that bastard’s power works on metal. I won’t be able to use this!”

Othala’s eyes slid closed, and her expression seemed to convey she was trying to will herself to be patient. Victor barked out a single laugh. “All the more reason to finish this quickly. It stays grounded after today then.”

The trio finished crossing over to the platform, Rune swearing under her breath the whole way, and as they stepped on, Rune took a moment to lay her hand on the rail, pushing her power into the heavy object. It smoothly lifted from the roof under her direction, and she flew them towards their destination: A German restaurant at the edge of downtown and the commercial district called Abend Stube. Rune had almost laughed aloud the first time she’d been told it was a frequent location for E88 meetings. She was a hundred percent on board with putting the other races in their place, but she thought doing it in the name of a political party that failed a few decades shy of a century ago was _moronic_. Holding meetings at a German restaurant just further fit into the stereotype and was completely ludicrous.

Not that she would never admit any of that aloud, even in presumed safety. Some things were best said only in the safety of one’s head.

The sun had begun to set around 6:30, and the encroaching darkness masked the group’s flight to the restaurant from wandering eyes. Still, Rune was careful to not descend until they had actually reached the skies over the restaurant itself. “Wandering eyes are not the same as actively searching ones,” Victor had advised when they first began practicing using her power for flight, and she could definitely see his point. She brought them down onto the restaurant’s roof, and in short order they all descended the roof access ladder and entered through the employee’s entrance of the restaurant. The entrance lead to what amounted to a foyer that had lockers for the employees to store their things, a single unisex bathroom, a doorway to the kitchens, a doorway to the restaurant itself, and a doorway—the only doorway—leading to the private backroom. The latter had a keypad akin to the one protecting the elevator at the facility she had changed at earlier, barring access to anyone outside the E88 or those allowed inside. The enticing smell of meat and warm bread wafted into the room from the kitchen, and Rune took a moment to briefly savor the scent as she checked the clock hanging by the doorway to the kitchen. 6:59 PM—they were on time.

Kaiser was already seated at the head of the table and waiting, his elbows braced on the table and his fingers laced together before him. Rune had been brought to the regular dining room once before by Othala and Victor, all of them in their civilian guises, and the lighting had been somewhat dim. Ordinarily the private dining area was as well, but it was brightly lit on this occasion, so much so that Kaiser’s armor cast a bit of a glare in her eyes. Ordinarily the restaurant would have laid out multiple tables together to create a sort of rectangle, and the Empire capes would sit in the same places. Kaiser would be seated at the head of the table with Fenja and Menja at his side, Hookwolf would take the first seat on the side to Kaiser’s left with Cricket and Stormtiger following, and Krieg would take the first seat on the side to Kaiser’s right with Victor, Othala, and Rune claiming the following seats. This time, however, only one table had been laid out, and none of the other Empire capes were present. Rune paused briefly at this confirmation the evening’s meeting would not be an ordinary one, and she did her best to not let her fear show in her body language as she fell into step behind Victor and Othala. There were two seats to Kaiser’s right, and one lone seat on his left. It was a given that Victor and Othala would sit together, which meant she would be sitting alone.

The message was clear: Victor was no longer able—or maybe willing—to shield her any longer.

Rune carefully took her seat, reflexively suffusing the chair with her power when she pulled it back from the table. Kaiser didn’t speak or move until after all three of them had taken their seats, and even then, he merely slid a tablet Rune hadn’t noticed until that moment across the table and tapped the ‘play’ button. She gulped as a particularly clear video of Fujiwara’s stunt in her costume at the Market began to play.

“That’s right, pitiful shopkeepers! Your clothes belong to the Empire! Bow down before our superiority complex and despair!” the bastard yelled in an abysmal attempt to approximate her voice before zooming off screen cackling. Rune flinched as a blade erupted from the tablet—no, from the table _through_ the tablet—shattering the screen and cutting off the bastard mid-cackle.

“I trust, Rune,” Kaiser intoned, his rich voice so casual he could just as easily have been discussing the weather instead of making threating gestures with his power, “that my displeasure with your handling of this matter is self-evident.”

“ _Yessir_ ,” she quickly answered in what was most definitely _not_ a squeak. That would have been undignified.

Still, even if she had, _which she hadn’t_ , nobody could blame her. Any solid surface within his reach was a pincushion waiting to happen. She didn’t know how far his reach was or whether he actually needed line of sight either, so for all she knew, he could off her from a mile away without looking.

“Excellent,” he drawled while leaning back just a bit, pulling his elbows away from the table. “It should be equally clear that I expect a swift response. Make an example out of him publicly.”

“Yes sir,” Rune replied, trying to force her fear levels down from _I might be about to die_ levels down to _reassure him so I don’t die_. “I’ll find Fuj—”

Another blade shot out of the first one, aimed straight at her neck. It ultimately stopped short, but she had already unconsciously slid the chair back a solid foot with her power before she noticed. Rivulets of sweat carved their way along her face as she stared at the blade, terrified.

“I was under the impression you had been instructed regarding the Unwritten Rules,” Kaiser intoned dangerously, the false warmth from earlier gone. “I have no time to play the teacher, Victor. Clean up this mess.” He pushed his chair back, rose to his feet, and calmly strode past her. He stopped just behind her chair, and she couldn’t resist a tiny whimper as the second blade began to slowly extend towards her once more. “You would do well, Rune, to mind your mentor. Make an example, lest I do so instead.” Then he left, the door to the private room swinging shut behind him.

Rune immediately tugged her chair back again to escape the advancing blade. The edge stopped immediately, and when she reached up to touch her neck and examined her fingers, she found them slightly bloody. 

Victor rose to his feet and pushed back his chair in one swift movement then crossed the room to where she sat panting, adrenaline thrumming in her veins. “You know what you did wrong?” he questioned, his voice hard as ice.

“N-No!”

“Really? You can’t even fucking guess?”

Rune looked back over what had been said and done, wracking her brain. “I… I was saying Fuj— _his name_ , then Kaiser… But, the Unwritten Rules don’t apply here!”

He took a step closer, looming over her, and she stared. “They _do_ apply. You don’t go after a cape’s secret identity or their family.”

“But… But I _didn’t_ —”

“You didn’t before, no,” Victor interrupted. “But the moment that kid became a cape? The Rules applied.”

“But if that’s true, then _he_ broke them when he stole my phone!” Rune argued, stubbornly trying to prove she had done nothing wrong.

“The phone I told you not to take with you on duty?” She winced at the reminder. “That would ordinarily have been enough for him to be free game, except it’s pretty clear from your story he was a fresh trigger. Allowances are made for people like that because they don’t know any better yet.”

“Then what am I supposed to _do_?” she hissed. “He doesn’t have a cape identity, so how can I go after him?!”

“He doesn’t have a cape identity _yet_ ,” Othala said, finally entering the conversation from her seat, “but he will. Few people with powers wait long before going out as a cape. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of someone waiting longer than a month.”

“A month?!”

“You need to start hearing the whole message, not the parts, kid,” Victor said as he turned on his heel and walked back over to Othala. “Next time we won’t be able to bail you out.”

Rune’s jaw dropped. “So then… You’re?”

“Helping?” He extended his hand to Othala, who daintily placed her hand in his before rising from the table. Rune couldn’t help the tiny pang of jealousy that flared up at that. Her cousin made being the perfect lady look so easy. It wasn’t a difference of age, or she doubted it, at least. Two years wasn’t _that_ big of a gap in her eyes. So why did doing the same always make her feel so awkward, like she was playing pretend? “Yes, we convinced Kaiser that you were caught off guard because you had never been around someone else triggering and hadn’t been in a cape fight yet.

“You’ve got one chance.”

She gulped. Her eyes flicked over to the blade that still hung perfectly perpendicular to the floor, its metallic gleam ominous even though it was no longer bearing down upon her.

“So fight me,” she blurted as the couple came around the table. Victor gave her a look then broke the blade in half before breaking it free from the portion growing from the table. He stole skills temporarily or, if done for long enough, permanently. He was no brute who could snap metal—Othala must have given him super strength.

“Fight you,” he echoed as he continued to break the blades down until they were small enough to be carried outside.

“If I can’t take on F— _him_ —until he’s a cape… then I need to practice fighting capes so I’m ready for him.”

Victor gave her a toothy smile.


	8. Forge 2.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everyone. My partner's health has taken a turn for the worse, and I've been focused on taking care of them while juggling getting them an appointment with a new neurosurgeon. Not fun, let me tell you.
> 
> This chapter is un-beta'd, but I've done a final read through, and everything seems to be in order. Please let me know if anything seems awry!

The downside to choosing a mask that covers the bottom half of your face, I discovered later that night, is that you can’t easily eat or drink anything. I gave my philly cheesesteak a longing, hungry look then flicked my annoyed gaze over to where Newter was distributing water into spoons using some sort of tool I couldn’t remember the name of. The two girls sitting with us, brunettes I hadn’t bothered to pay attention to the names of, were watching him with a hungry look in their eyes. “C’mon, Newter, I wanna _eaaat_!”

“Patience is a virtue, _Thrash_ ,” he replied with a chuckle.

I gave him a bemused look and puzzled that one over. “Not seeing it. How the hell is ‘thrash’ related to metal?”

“I get it!” interjected one of the girls. _No one cares if you get it_.“Like thrash metal music, right?”

“Nailed it!”

“Oh come on,” I groaned. “I don’t even like metal music!”

“Not his fault you have bad taste, Blue Steel,” the other girl quipped with a smirk while he dipped his tongue into each spoon and carefully handed her and the first girl a water laden spoon each.

“Ugh, is this another reference I’m not getting?”

“Yo, I’ve seen that one,” Newter snickered. “Earth Aleph movie. Zoo something. Stupid but hilarious.”

“Yup,” the second girl confirmed. “So I just drink it all?”

“Yes,” I impatiently answered in his place, having watched him go through the drill twice already with the five girls zonked out on the nearby reclining seats. “Just swallow it already!” I clutched my philly to me in a likely vain attempt to keep it warm and started imagining its taste. _The thinly sliced, perfectly cooked steak, the heavenly melted cheese, the grilled onions and mushrooms to add texture and flavor…_

“That’s what she said,” quipped the first brunette, shooting a raised eyebrow at where I was holding the sub in what I belatedly realized was a suggestive way. Both brunettes burst into giggles, and I flushed with embarrassment. I honestly debated using my powers to chuck them over the ledge for that.

They finally— _finally!_ —drank the tainted water, and as they flopped back onto their seats with faraway eyes, I yanked down my mask and all but ripped the paper away from my sub. “Took them long enough. God.” I took a bite of the sub and failed to repress a moan as my taste buds roared their approval. The swirl of metal over the dance floor began to flicker and dance somewhat erratically, but the dancers below seemed to approve if their cheers were any indication. Faultline had suggested I keep it up as practice, if I was going to be hanging out with Newter anyway. It was no skin off my back, so I hadn’t argued against it.

Newter smirked a bit but said nothing as he twisted the cap back onto the water bottle and tucked everything away. Once that was done, he finally said, “So nothing’s clicking for you yet?” I shook my head, silent because my mouth was still full of delicious goodness. “Eh, you’ll figure it out. You’ve just got to nail it down before our next gig. You do _not_ want PHO or the PRT to name you.”

I swallowed and took a drag from the coke at my feet before replying. “Like Chubster, right?”

“Nah, he actually chose that name himself.”

“You’re _joking_.”

He laid a hand over his chest in a ‘who, me?’ gesture. I rolled my eyes at him and pushed the last bite of my philly into my mouth. Unfortunately, I had overestimated how much I could fit in there and found myself with cheeks puffed out with food. Still, I wasn’t going to spit it out—ew—so I struggled to chew while I balled up the paper the sub had come in and tossed it towards the trashcan. The paper bounced off the rim of the metal can, and I moved the can with my power in an effort to catch it. The movement made it start to tip over, and in my haste to prevent that I over-corrected in the other direction and sent the whole thing tipping over.

Newter eyed the spilled waste then turned back to me with a smirk. “I’m sure that went much more gracefully in your head.” I leveled a mild glare at him, pushed myself to my feet, and started shoving all the trash back in. “Yo, mind asking Pierce to send up some more girls, since you’re already standing?”

“Seven not enough for you?”

He shrugged. “The night is young.”

I huffed as I set the trashcan upright and crossed back over to where I’d been sitting. “I don’t mind asking him, but if hanging out with you is just going to be a nonstop train of watching other girls get high, then I’ll call it a night.”

“Oh?” he said, his tone different in a way I couldn’t place. “If you’d wanted to try it out, you just had to say so.”

“What? Nooo.” I shook my head and tapped my arms together in the form of an ‘X.’

“Huh? But you said—”

“I said I’m not interested in watching other people get high all night. That doesn’t mean _I_ want to get high. Because I most emphatically do _not_.”

He said nothing for a moment, and I almost repeated myself, thinking he hadn’t heard me over the loud music, but he finally spoke up. “So what did you have in mind?”

I shrugged. “Nothing in particular, I guess. We could maybe ‘window shop,’” I threw in finger quotes.

“No independent stuff, sorry. Boss hasn’t laid out all the rules for you yet, I guess. Since you’re part of the team now, anything you or I do alone affects the team too, y’know?”

“Well fuck. That’s annoying,” I complained, crossing my arms. It made sense if I was being honest, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.“Um, we could talk…? _Anything else_ would be an improvement.”

He tilted his head. “Bad experience with drugs?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve smoked weed once or twice. Not my favorite thing, but I get it. I just don’t want to do that right now.”

“Then why…?”

I hesitated a bit, unsure how much I wanted to mention. Ultimately, I decided to just be frank, since there was a not insignificant chance I would let it slip by accident at some point anyway. It was awkward topic, but I didn’t mind super much beyond that. “Well… I mentioned I’m new to the Bay, right?” At his nod, I continued. “I don’t want to get into it, but my mom died from OD’ing.”

“Oh shit.” 

He looked honest, but was it just an act? From what I’d seen so far, he was all about letting the good times roll. He didn’t seem to actually be capable of being serious. I ended up grunting out, “Yeah,” and left it at that.

We sat there in silence—well, we weren’t _talking_ , but it was for from silent—for a bit, and eventually I sank more of my focus into finding and touching all the metal nearby with my power. Another thing Faultline had asked me to start practicing. ‘You need to know where metal is _before_ you need it,’ or something like that. I was annoyed I had ‘power homework,’ but at least it was a damn sight better than the regular kind.

“I don’t remember my family at all,” he abruptly announced, catching my attention once more.

I looked at him in surprise. “Really? Why not?”

“I’m a Case 53. Gregor too.”

“Is that supposed to mean something? It sounds… vaguely familiar, but I’m not familiar.”

He languidly stretched in his chair before laying back and resting his head against the headrest. “Means we just showed up one day with no memory, a creepy tattoo, and a monster body.”

 _Is that what the tattoo over his heart is then?_ He had a stylized ‘C’ there, and it was the only tattoo I’d seen on him. Considering he was almost always shirtless, I would only have missed other tattoos if they were on his legs. The last part of what he said made me frown. “You’re not a monster.”

“We are to some people,” he said with a shrug. “Doesn’t bother me too much, but it used to bother Gregor a lot. He’s better about it now though.”

“You’re _not_ a monster,” I repeated, leaving no room for discussion. “You’re more than your appearance, and fuck anyone who says otherwise.”

He smiled just a bit at that. It was fleeting, and I almost missed it in the dark club lighting, but I was confident I saw it before his expression settled back into something vaguely neutral. “Maybe you could wear a suit of armor, dress like a knight? It’d fit with this whole, ‘defender of the downtrodden’ you’re evoking right now.”

I snorted at my mental image of myself riding around the city on horseback in medieval armor. “Ah yes,” I intoned with mock severity and a florid bow. “Lady… um, Knightsalot at your service, sir.”

Newter burst into laughter. “You are _so shit_ at names!”

“Hey, I came up with June just fine!” I bit out, somewhat offended at the declaration.

“Huh?”

 _Ah hell_. “Anyway, I’m getting tired,” I said with a faux yawn. “I’m gonna go catch some Z’s. Night, Newts.”

“God, please don’t call me that,” he remarked with an over-exaggerated cringe, obviously struggling to maintain a straight face. “Have mercy on me!”

“No promises,” I replied in a cheery, sing-song tone as I carefully reclaimed and deposited all of my coins into my bag to the disappointment of the crowd.

* * *

“We’re here.”

I looked up from where I’d been perusing the phone Faultline had provided me this morning—complete with an explanation of “this will come out of your paycheck,” the money-grubber—and paled when I saw where she had driven Newter and me. “No.”

Newter twisted around in his seat with a confused look, while Faultline’s eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror but didn’t betray what she was thinking. “Elaborate?”

“Somewhere else.” I struggled to not cringe away from the sight of the Boat Graveyard clearly visible through the tinted windows and windshield. “Not… not here. Anywhere but here.”

Newter turned to face Faultline, and the two shared a silent conversation for a moment. “Okay,” Faultline said. “What is it that’s bothering you? I need to know, so I can move us somewhere better.”

I fidgeted and looked down at my lap, scowling at my inability to continue looking at the place. “I, um. I triggered here.”

“Fuck,” Newter remarked, succinctly summarizing my thoughts on the matter.

Faultline’s eyes widened minutely before settling back into indifference. “If I put a building between us and here, would that be enough?” Faultline inquired. “I don’t want to subject you to trauma, but this area is the best suited to testing the limits of your power while maintaining a low profile and staying in the city.”

“Maybe?” I allowed, not quite sure.

She twisted the leather steering wheel, her fancy car smoothly rotating in response. I _did_ feel better once I wasn’t looking at the abandoned docks and sunken boats and relayed as much to Faultline, eliciting a nod of acknowledgment from her as she brought us back a block and pulled around the other side of a sizable abandoned building made of concrete and metal that appeared to be a cross between boat repair facility and warehouse. Best as I could tell, everything in a four or five block radius of the docks was likewise deserted, which just added to the decaying air of the ‘graveyard.’ She turned towards a giant metal bay door that was street level, and taking the cue, I lifted the door fifteen feet or so—more than enough room for the sleek vehicle to slide underneath.

“How much metal is in your range right now?” Faultline asked, her tone all business as she flipped down the welder’s mask that served as her mask. The stylized crack across it passed roughly over where I expected the bridge of her nose to be.

“A lot.” She crossed her arms and waited. I did my best to resist the urge to glare. “I don’t know what kind of answer you’re looking for. It’s not like instinctively know how many pieces of metal are nearby, how much it all weighs, or whatever.”

“And now we know that about your power,” she replied in a clipped tone before opening the door and climbing out.

“Oh.” I blinked. “That… makes sense, I guess.”

Newter snickered at me as he popped open his own door, and I took a moment to push down the urge to make him trip on coins before tying my mask in place and moving to follow.

Faultline was facing me as I hopped out and seemed to be regarding me. Her costume was a weird combination of utility and style that looked like some sort of welder crossed with a samurai to me. She wore what looked like an armored vest, a large skirt split into parts that clearly didn’t hamper her movement, and wide sleeves that obscured her arms while still allowing her to easily reach the items strapped to her upper arm. In between the splits in the skirt and peeking out from beneath her billowing sleeves, I could just barely make out a myriad of belts and holsters all over that held a mix of tools in place. I could feel most, but not all, of the items she had strapped to her, and the costume made it difficult to read her body language.

“So you cannot determine the exact amount or weight of metal nearby,” she finally stated after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. “Do you feel metal shifting into and out of your perception?”

“Um. Well, I can feel you moving around because of all the metal on you.” I trailed off for a moment then belatedly added. “Newter too. Button on his jeans.”

She nodded. “Yes, you had mentioned as much regarding your fight with the ABB. That’s not quite what I am asking. As you pay attention to any individual pieces or groups of metal, do you lose sight of metal you could see until that moment?”

“Oh, um… I can feel new metal as I walk close enough or lose sight of it as I move away, but not while I’m just chilling in place.”

“Anything else you can feel about the metal? Can you tell what kind of metal it is? Whether something else is attached to it or on it?”

“Can’t tell metals apart, but I can feel shape and kinda how heavy it is, and I’ve been making guesses about what things are based on that.”

“So you were being exact when you said you couldn’t tell how much it ‘all weighs’ earlier, however you _can_ roughly guess how much an individual item weighs.”

I self-consciously crossed my arms. I’d known we were coming out here to test my power, and Faultline had warned me she would be asking a lot of questions, but it still felt like I was being interrogated. “It’s… easier to compare how much something weighs next to something else.” I gestured at a shipping container in the warehouse, visible only by the sunlight leaking through from where I still held the garage door open. “I can tell that weighs more than your car.” _And speaking of lifting those…_ “I think I have a limit to what I can lift too? When I fought Rune, she tried to throw two of those at me. The second one sort of… um, slipped between my fingers. Something like that. Had to block one with the other instead of just taking control of both.”

Faultline made a considering sound. “Interesting. It’s not a limit on the number of objects. You control thousands of coins at once all the time…” 

She trailed off and turned to face the shipping container I’d indicated. I looked to Newter, and he remarked, “Probably thinking up a test.”

“Yes,” she distractedly replied. “Yes, that should work.” She turned back to face us. “Lift that shipping container into the air and hold it there. While you’re holding it, I want you to bring out your coins and see if you can still control all of them.”

I shrugged and tried to lift the container only to fall over backwards when my backpack suddenly became crazy heavy. The door also slammed into the ground with a bang, cutting off our light.

Fortunately, that meant I didn’t flash my teammates when my skirt flipped up over my belly. That would have compounded my mortification over my power failing like that.

A flashlight cut through the darkness, and Faultline crossed over to me and gave me a hand up. “Lost control?”

“Yeah,” I said frowning. 

“Put down your bag and try again.”

I shrugged off my backpack and let it fall to the ground with a metallic clunk. Free of needing to control them, I tried to lift the container. Strangely, it wouldn’t budge. _The hell is going on?_

“Coin?”

“Trying,” I grunted through grit teeth.

“If you cannot lift it, then stop. That’s informative enough.” I released my grip on it and sagged in relief. When I tossed her an inquiring look, she explained, “I suspect the limit is not the number of items you can lift but how much _weight_ you can lift.”

I’d thought something similar when I was robbing the store on the Boardwalk, but still… “I don’t get it though,” I protested. “This _feels_ like the same weight as the one I used to fight Rune. I mean, I don’t remember _exactly_ , but it’s about the same.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “But that container may have been empty or otherwise contained less weight than this one. Your power might only provide weight feedback for the metal itself.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying my power is really just focused on metal shit.” I turned my power on the shipping container again, but this time I focused instead on ripping it apart at the seams instead of lifting it, and when the sides and top tore away, I saw it really was packed to the brim with wooden crates that contained who knew what. More importantly though…

“Yuck!” Newter complained, pinching his nose, while I grimaced. If Faultline was bothered by the rancid stench, then it must’ve been concealed by her mask. Or else she was just completely unflappable. Both seemed equally plausible from what I’d seen of her so far. “What reeks?!”

I promptly reassembled the container over the bottom chunk that had been under the crates, and though the smell got a bit better it still lingered. “Smells like rancid milk,” I groaned, abruptly thankful for the mask covering my nose.

“It may very well be,” Faultline stated, some discomfort evident in her voice. _Ha! Guess she’s not so unflappable after all!_ “Certainly food products gone bad at any rate.”

“Whatever it is, it’s awful,” Newter pressed. “Can we head outside where it doesn’t smell like something died?”

I grabbed my backpack off the ground and lifted the door once more, then the three of us quickly left through the gap, which I carefully set down this time, since we were ostensibly trying to be discrete.

“Do you feel any other storage containers nearby that you can pick up? I’d still like to confirm my hypothesis beyond a doubt using my original test. Put your bag on the ground first.”

“Sure, there are plenty,” I confirmed while dropping my backpack. I picked up one of the containers at random, and in less than a minute I had it hovering nearby, perfectly still in the air.

“Okay, now hold that in the air and try to bring out all of your coins.” I reached down and unzipped the backpack, and while I was able to pull out most of them out, I wasn’t able to grab them all before I began to feel like the rest were slipping between my fingers like trying to grab at water with splayed fingers. Faultline glanced down into the bag and nodded to herself. “That’s enough, Coin. Thank you.”

I carefully set down the container. “That’s it then. I can only control so much weight. Good to know.”

“Yes. It’s a shame you can only lift that much, since an armored car would be much heavier, but it’s good that you can work with individual parts. The next hypothesis I want to confirm is your compulsion.”

I was about to ask why she’d specifically brought up an armored car but was caught off guard by the last part. “My… compulsion?”

“Correct. You acted quite strangely at two separate points the night we met, seemingly fixated on something we couldn’t see. I reexamined those situations after, and from what I could glean, it seemed you weren’t controlling metal at the time. Hence I suspect you have a compulsion to use your power regularly. It would explain why you were so emphatic about keeping some of the metal we gave you that night and why you always carry around coins in your backpack.”

“That’s not why,” I objected, floundering to explain myself. “I—that is… I just don’t wanna be caught off guard like I did with Rune! The coins are easy to carry and around manipulate, especially if I need to fly!”

“If that’s all it is, then you won’t object to a simple test. Put all of your coins on the ground in a pile, and don’t use your power on them or any other metal in the area.” My revulsion at the idea must have shown on my face, since she added, “Newter and I are here, and we would protect you and end the test if an attack did happen.”

I begrudgingly lumped the coins together in a small mound on the ground then released my power’s hold over them. It was weird just… letting go. In hindsight, I _had_ been constantly using it to control metal in one way or another since Monday, spare when I’d been asleep. 

“Perfect, that will do nicely.”

“Sure, sure,” I muttered. Trying to distract myself from the odd feeling, my eyes flicked over to Faultline. “So. Um. What exactly _is_ your power? Like, how does it work? Do you just split things in half?”

“Something like that,” she replied. “I make cuts in non-organic objects at the atomic level.”

I blinked, trying to wrap my head around that description. “Fancy cutting. Got it.”

“An excellent summary,” she drawled.

I smirked a bit at the reaction, but my expression quickly twisted with confusion when I realized I was staring at my coins. When had that happened? Weird. I started to reflexively settle my power over them, but paused when I remembered I wasn’t supposed to. _But… why?_ It was suddenly hard to remember. 

“Don’t use your power.” 

I sluggishly tugged my gaze away from the coins. Faultline—right. She asked me to stop. “‘Kay,” I grumbled, shuffling my feet and looking around for something to distract myself. I realized I was staring at Faultline’s metal welder’s mask. Not having meant to stare, I scrambled to say something. “Fancy cutter. What’s the biggest cut ya ever made?” I pantomimed slicing through something with my arm with a “kashew!” Her power had made a sound when I saw it the other night when she split my coin. I think? Whatever.

“‘The biggest cut’ I ever made, hm?” It sounded like there was a hint of a smile in her voice, but I couldn’t tell if she was actually smiling. I was staring at her mask, so I’d see her smiling if I could. “Well, I cut through a building once, and it collapsed. There was definitely luck involved with that though.”

“Snazzy,” I murmured, trying to visualize it, but her mask was pretty distracting. My lips curled in frustration as I struggled to look away, and when I finally managed it, my gaze immediately fell on the pile of my coins. _I don’t like this. Why am I doing it again?_

“You’re doing it because we’re testing your power,” Faultline said. _Huh. Did I say that aloud?_ “Yes, you did.”

I growled with frustration. I tried to turn away again, even if it meant I would just start staring at her mask again, but I just couldn’t manage it. I realized I was trembling and crossed my arms to try and stop it. _So many coins. Money. I need that. Need hormones._

“Hormones?”

Newter? Yes, belt buckle. He’s the belt buckle. A whining sound reached my ears. Familiar… Me? _Too much. Just… I just need to for one second. It’s just a second, right?_

“Okay, I think that’s more than enough,” the metal mask said. “You may use your power again.”

 _Permission._ The coins on the ground shot towards me at speed and abruptly twisted to swirl around me in a vortex, gently stirring the air around me in their wake. I was in the eye of a metal tornado, the world blurred by a storm of my own design. I don’t know how long it took, but I eventually stopped shivering and felt calmer, if a bit light-headed. I tugged coins from the storm and wrapped them around me as I would for flight but just used them to stabilize myself instead as I let the storm die down into a ring of coins around me. 

Faultline and Newter stood nearby, and though I couldn’t see Faultline’s expression, Newter’s was pinched with a mixture of emotions I couldn’t place. “Feeling better?” he asked. Was that worry?

“‘Course I am,” I deflected, trying to wrack my brain for exactly what had happened but came up mostly blank.

“Your compulsion put you in an altered mind state,” Faultline answered my unasked question, her tone heavy with something I couldn’t identify. “I apologize for forcing you to go through that, but we needed to know how you would act at what levels of deprivation.” She waved the phone in her hand. “I recorded everything, in case we need to refer back to it later.”

“So it’s real?” I asked bemused and shaking my head. It was difficult to recall what had happened between putting down my coins and picking them back up. It wasn’t that there was a gap in my memory, but it was difficult to focus on it, and what I could remember was mostly a blur of feelings. I held out my hand and tugged the phone towards me, and Faultline made a noise half annoyance and half disappointment.

“Ask next time, but go ahead and watch it.”

 _Whoops. Right, trying to stay on her good side._ I shot her my best look of contrition, hoping she would chalk up my behavior to this ‘altered mind state’ she claimed I’d been in. I tapped the ‘play’ button on the phone, not expecting much, then watched with embarrassment and mounting horror as the video showed me quickly grow loopy. I stared obsessively at metal, began thinking aloud… I even started acting like Mom did when she couldn’t get her fix. The whole process took only _three minutes_ by the video’s timer. “The fuck? What the actual fuck?”

“You don’t remember it at all?” I looked up and unconsciously flinched away when I saw Newter had stepped closer while I was watching. He’d stopped just outside the ring of coins, distant enough to prevent accidentally touching him, but his silent approach had still startled me. He frowned at my reaction, an expression that seemed alien on him. For the short time we’d known each other, I had come to associate him almost exclusively with grins and laughter. I shook my head wordlessly, unsure what to say. To think, even. I shivered again at the thought that I might never have known about this if I’d stayed solo. I might have even accidentally gotten stuck like this, if I ever got trapped somewhere without metal in range.

Faultline crossed over to us and held out her hand. Recognizing the silent command for what it was and too troubled to even think about disobeying right now, I moved the phone to her hand through the air. Once she had slipped it back into her pocket, she spoke up, “There’s more testing I would like to do, but I would understand if you aren’t feeling well enough to continue.”

“I’m fine,” I groused, albeit somewhat unsteadily. I frowned then repeated myself with more certainty. “I want to continue.”

Newter made a noise of protest, but Faultline gestured at him. He crossed his arms but didn’t say anything further. She waved at the coins on the ground. “You moved those very quickly. Do you know how fast you can move them? A rough estimate will do.”

“Maybe 40, 45 miles an hour? When I fly, it looks like I’m faster than the cars on the street below.”

“Hm… I wonder if…” She didn’t finish the thought for several seconds, seemingly thinking through another test. “This would be cleaner and more exact if we had the proper equipment, but we shall just have to make do. I want you to move a coin at max speed, then I want you to move that shipping container in the same way. I will observe from the side and try to compare speeds. Your power is affected by weight, but powers are finicky. It may be that you can move them both at the same speed. It may be the shipping container moves slower or quicker. It certainly seemed to be fast when you initially retrieved it.”

It didn’t take long for me to oblige and send each item in turn hurtling forward while Faultline watched. Once I was done, there was an undercurrent of excitement in her voice. “To the naked eye, I didn’t see much difference at all—interesting. I’d bet the difference boils down to air resistance, but it’s impossible to say right now.”

“So wait,” I said, beginning to cotton on to what she was thinking. “I could just smash people with heavy objects at speed then, right?”

“No, even better!” Newter interjected with a grin. “You can pulverize them from above! They’d never see it coming.”

I grinned back, the funk from earlier finally dissipating in the wake of my excitement. “Awesome!”

“You would need to exercise appropriate restraint,” Faultline pointed out, being a party pooper. “Remember, avoiding lethal force is one of the unwritten rules. But yes, this has definite tactical advantages.” She pulled out her phone and checked the time. “I have some other tests I would like to perform, but we should head back before too long. Otherwise, Gregor won’t have enough time to help you retrieve your belongings from your cousin before our meeting.”

“Whatevs,” I replied with a shrug. “What next then?”

Apparently a lot. I actually started to regret insisting I was good to continue earlier—the woman was like a slave driver! She put me through a battery of other tests regarding how fine my control was—it basically wasn’t, but I’d already known that—and the kinds of shapes I could manipulate metal into—spoiler alert: a whole lot of shapes, so long as they didn’t require fine details. I was actually a bit upset when I realized I couldn’t use my power to make a badass sword. I’d known I couldn’t make something small like a knife, but a part of me had been hoping I would be able to upscale and find a point where I could actually make something sharp. The best I’d been able to manage was essentially a large cleaver-like sword that had something of an edge, but I’d abandoned that when Newter joked my cape name should be ‘Cloud,’ which was apparently a reference to some Earth Aleph video game. No way was I going to let myself be associated with a dumb name like that or some game I’d never even heard of.

Eventually we moved on to reviewing my fights with Rune and Lung, so Faultline could get an idea of where I was at with fighting. “Could you feel his scales?” Faultline asked when I’d finished describing the latter fight.

I blinked, nonplussed. “Um. I think I could?”

“Then why didn’t you use your power to hold him in place or even slow him down?”

That was a good fucking question. “I dunno…”

She hummed at that. “I’d imagined your power was Manton-limited. A partial limitation might fight.” I tilted my head in confusion, and she tacked on, “It’s the principle that most powers tend to either living creatures or inanimate objects but almost never both. For example, my powers only work on inanimate objects. They wouldn’t work if I tried to use them on you or Newter.”

“So what you’re saying is… Lung’s scales are living metal or something, so my power might not work on them the same as normal metal?”

“It’s a theory. We don’t exactly have a readily available means of testing that, so just keep it in mind. Besides that, you mentioned trapping him using the metal from the safe, and you’ve quite clearly demonstrated that you can manipulate metal. What I don’t understand is _how_ you kept him contained using metal. Lung is incredibly strong and, with his pyrokinesis, could have quite possibly melted a hole through the metal.”

“Oh, right! It’s hard to explain, but I surrounded him in a sphere of metal then pushed it… um, I call it ‘elsewhere.’”

Newter snickered. “‘Elsewhere’?”

I stuck my tongue out at him, or tried to anyway, getting a taste of my mask for my effort. I flipped him the bird instead. “Ass.”

“Your excellent naming skills hard at work,” he smugly retorted, seemingly unbothered by being given the finger.

Faultline cut in before we could keep going at each other. “Focus. What happens when you push something ‘elsewhere’?”

“Um. It gets tougher? I also can’t move it with my power until I bring it back from there.”

She turned on her heel and started walking towards the shipping container. “Show me.” She gave me a few seconds to push it elsewhere then reached out to touch it, the blue and red light of her power crackling over the surface of the rusted red metal.

Nothing happened.

Newter stared, his mouth agape. “Holy shit.”

Faultline placed her other hand against it and got close enough to push her toes against it too. Her power flared once more, this time much more brightly and for several seconds, but the container remained unphased.

She turned back to face me. “Can you undo this?” Her tone was tinged with the faintest signs of excitement again.

“Yeah.”

“How long does it last?”

“Um. I dunno, actually. I’ve always just brought it back.”

“It must have a time limit,” she rebutted. “Even if the PRT didn’t report an immovable sphere large enough to contain a human, I still would have heard rumblings in my network of such a thing.”

I shrugged, unsure what to say. “I did leave pretty quickly after the fight… Could be a time limit, I guess. Or maybe it stops once it’s out of my range?”

“Then here’s how we’ll test it…”

* * *

“Okay, it’s coming up,” I said as I felt the metal in my range quickly slip away as Faultline drove us back towards the Palanquin. I’d left a shipping container hanging in the elsewhere far, far up in the air above the Boat Graveyard.

“That’s a shame,” Faultline replied. “Your range isn’t quite as far as I’d hoped.” She slowed down, which wasn’t a problem, as we were still on an entirely abandoned street. I grumbled a bit at that—my power was _impressive_ , dammit—but I forced myself to let it be. Instead, I joined Newter in rolling down my window as he did the same on the other side of the car, and together we leaned out to watch. “Right about… Now.”

The container slipped from my control, and it immediately began to plummet towards the earth. It quickly picked up speed, falling faster and faster… Until a metallic bang rang out, echoing and resounding through the area and sending a plume of concrete dust up into the air that I could see in spite of the building blocking my sight of the impact. A part of me wanted to go see what the damage was—it had to be a _lot_ , solid concrete or not—but Faultline had already said we wouldn’t want to stick around once it hit, so I slipped back into the car and rolled up the tinted window. Safely hidden from sight, I tugged my mask down and left it hanging around my neck.

Newter shot me a grin from the passenger seat. “Like I said. You’ll pulverize them.”

“Totally,” I replied before gesticulating widely and jokingly declaring, “Watch the skies, Brockton Bay! Metal Rain is bringing the pain!”

“No, no, can’t use that name,” he said with a laugh. “Too close to Iron Rain, Kaiser’s sister.”

“It was just a joke anyway, you spoilsport.”

A sly look abruptly crossed Newter’s face. “Actually… I’ve finally got the _perfect_ cape name for you.”

I rolled my eyes, fully expecting another joke name that I’d hate or not understand the reference of. “Uh huh. Do tell.”

“Meteor.”

I blinked. _Meteor_ … I met his eyes, a smile slowly growing on my face.


	9. Forge 2.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes at the bottom!

“That’s it right there,” I said, pointing out the tall, concrete apartment structure where Masuyo lived. I’d been right in my initial assessment—she really didn’t live far from Palanquin. I’d noticed previously that she lived relatively close to the university, just north of downtown, and only a bit west of Palanquin. In hindsight, Palanquin’s placement probably explained why it was able to draw such large crowds. It got the college aged partying crowd _and_ the office workers who want to let loose after a hard day’s work. I tried to imagine Masuyo dancing the night away at Palanquin in the sorts of skimpy outfits I’d seen at the club but couldn’t quite manage it. Maybe she was secretly a party girl, but from what I’d seen so far, I had her pegged as the straight-laced type that would hang out awkwardly at the edge of the room, dragged there by friends if she even went at all.

Gregor pulled into the parking lot nearby and angled the mini-van towards a free visitor parking spot. Like Faultline’s car, all of its glass was tinted, but beyond that it really was your garden variety mini-van. I had chuckled when I first saw it and jokingly asked Gregor if he had aspirations to be a soccer mom, which had pulled a chuckle out of him.

“You said you do not have much to move?” he questioned as we climbed out together and he pulled up the hood on his hoodie, casting a bit of shadow over his face. It wasn’t late enough for the sun to really be setting yet, so anyone who paid close attention would still notice he was a cape.

“Yeah. I never really had much, besides some clothes and a few other things.” After a few moments, I remembered to throw in, “And hey. Um, thanks for driving me.”

“You are welcome,” he quickly replied. I would have thought he was uncomfortable, but he sounded at ease when he said it. Like he was used to it, expected the words. What was up with that? Did the rest of the team depend on him a lot? “Please lead the way.”

I pushed my musings aside and made my way to the elevator. I could count the number of times had I ridden it up to her apartment on two hands. It felt a little weird that this would be the last time for the foreseeable future. I had only just moved here not even a week ago, resigned to the fact I was moving away from the only home I had ever known in my life. Well, not the only apartment, but Brooklyn had always been _home_. I doubted Brockton Bay would ever come close.

The doors slid open at the right level, and I led Gregor down the hall and around the corner to Masuyo’s apartment. I tugged open my bag, and the key readily flew into my hands. I could feel a pants button and a pair of stud earrings moving around in the tiny kitchen left of the apartment’s entrance that I tentatively pegged as Masuyo. As I unlocked the deadbolt, I quietly informed Gregor, “Cousin is here. Lemme talk to her first.” He nodded and stepped away from the door to lean casually against the hallway wall.

“Welcome home,” Masuyo cheerfully greeted me from my left. Far too cheerfully, considering I hadn’t been back here since yesterday morning and hadn’t called. Even if the school hadn’t cared enough to inform her I didn’t show up earlier, she doubtlessly would have noticed I didn’t sleep here yesterday. She had to be faking it, but what would be the point? Some misguided attempt to make up for the other night? We hadn’t spoken since I blew up at her beyond exchanging awkward “morning”s yesterday. I’d felt kinda bad about making her cry and had wanted to clear the air, but it was a situation I had no real reference for. Mom had usually been drugged up out of her mind, and the few friends I’d had over the years were made of sterner stuff, so I hadn’t expected Masuyo would take it so poorly or known what to do about it. The smell and sound of sizzling meat drew my attention to the stove where several hamburger patties were browning in a large skillet. There were also some fresh toppings like lettuce and tomato on a cutting board nearby next to some ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise bottles. This was too much food for one person—was she expecting company? She couldn’t have known I would be arriving now.

She eventually looked my way when I unintentionally let the silence linger too long and seemed to understand my unspoken question. “A friend of mine from class is stopping by in a bit to study. Have you eaten yet? I have enough meat to make you some patties too.”

I shook my head. It’d been bad enough I had to rely on Masuyo for my first few meals here, but Faultline had given me a small advance on our next job once I’d explained I had nothing to my name after my fight with Lung. I’d get food later. “I’m actually just grabbing my things. I need to pay you back too.”

“You don’t—” She paused for a fraction of a second, a look of frustration passing over her face, then immediately switched gears. “What’re you grabbing?”

I opened my mouth to reply but paused when it hit me the blunt response I’d been about to give would likely lead to her getting upset. Again. And Gregor would be here for it this time. _Fantastic_. I wracked my brain for a way to avoid that but came up blank. I just didn’t know her well enough, an issue complicated by her acting like we did. I’d couch surfed at a friend’s once for a few months back when mom started having regular orgies at the apartment, and it’d been no big deal when I peaced out after Mom finally decided she was done with that lot. If you’d asked me a week ago, I would’ve thought moving out of Masuyo’s would be like that but for the complication of Social Services being nosy. Now I knew better. Or rather, I knew how much I didn’t know about her. So my options were ‘take a shot in the dark and hope I can lie through my teeth well enough to avoid her suspicion despite the fact I am literally taking all of my shit with me,’ which was liable to make her more upset if— _when_ —she realized I was lying… _or_ I could just go stick with tried and true ‘blunt as fuck.’

“June?”

 _Blunt and honest it is._ “All of it. I’m moving out.”

Her cheery expression vanished in an instant. She’d definitely been faking it. She had to for it to fall away like that. “What’re you talking about?”

“I got a job, and I can afford my own place,” I smoothly lied. It was close enough to the truth. The best lies were. “How much do I owe you for the food and phone? Rent too.” I’d almost forgotten the last bit. I had money and the promise of more to come, so I didn’t want to freeload on rent either. Wiping the slate clean and starting over on a level playing field, I could maybe see myself developing a real relationship with Masuyo then, not this pseudo-shit she’s got cooked up in her head. I’d never known any of my relatives besides Mom, so it _might_ be nice.

Might _not_ be too.

She stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “You don’t… What are…” She shook her head, clearly unsure where to start. “Huh?”

 _Heh. Eloquent._ “I mean it. I’ve got a job. You don’t need to do anything for me anymore. I’ll be out of your hair starting tonight.”

“I really don’t understand your fixation on this. I’m glad you got a job—work experience could be good, really—but you don’t need to worry about that sort of stuff. That’s my job as an adult.”

I clenched my hands at the condescension but did my best to ignore it. I didn’t want to make a scene with Gregor here. “Whatever. Agree to disagree. I’m still moving out.”

She ran a hand over her face. “June. That’s not how this works.”

Losing patience with her, I dismissively replied, “I really don’t have time for this,” and started towards the hallway and rounded the corner to the closet. My clothes and my secondhand, battered suitcase were both stored in it. “We have places to be.”

“Who is ‘we?’”

Gregor apparently took that as his cue to come in. I felt the metal on his jeans slowly round the corner, and he cautiously asked, “Is there anything I should take down while you pack?”

“No, no. It’ll all fit in my suitcase. Just gotta pack it real quick.”

“Who are you?” Masuyo demanded, strangely undeterred by the unknown man entering her apartment. She probably figured he was relatively safe since he was with me, but still, she had more guts than I had thought. “And what—”

She gasped, having probably seen his skin. I ignored her, expecting a mutter or exclamation of ‘cape’ to follow, and started to shove what few clothes I had extracted from the suitcase so far back into it.

“This is your fault, isn’t it? You’re with _them_ , aren’t you?” The skillet left the stove. “Why can’t you bastards just leave June alone?!”

_Woah, wait—what?_

I abandoned my suitcase and quickly returned to the living room and matched visuals to what my power was telling me. The patties that had been in the skillet were piled in a lump on the edge of the burner where she must have haphazardly dumped them in her haste to arm herself, and I could already see smoke starting to rise from the mass of meat. More concerning was how Masuyo was menacingly waving the probably still burning hot skillet at Gregor, who had his hands in the air and was backing away slowly towards the door.

“I do not know what you are talking about,” he replied, but she either couldn’t hear the honesty in his words or just didn’t care, since she made another threatening swipe at him.

“Masuyo, what the _fuck_?”

Her eyes flicked my way for only a moment before they immediately returned to giving Gregor a death glare. “My phone is in the other room. Call the PRT. Hurry!”

“Please calm down, miss.”

She swiped at him again, and I growled out, “Put that down now, or I’ll _make you_.”

“There is no need for that,” Gregor hastily replied, his eyes on me. “If you can handle carrying your things, then I will wait outside.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, since Masuyo’s eyes flashed with something like understanding. “A _master_ …? Get out of our home! I’ll never let you monsters have her!”

I saw _red_. She made to lunge at Gregor, and I tugged the skillet sharply left. Now swinging too hard and too quickly, she lost her balance and yelped as she fell to the floor in a heap. The skillet slipped from her fingers and slid towards me. “I told you to leave him alone!” I snarled. She made to reach for the skillet’s plastic handle, and I sent it skidding further into the living room with a negligent flick of my power.

“J-June?”

There was fear in her eyes, and the sight brought me up short. Intellectually I’d known that her eyes looked just like mine, but seeing the fear in them now… Suddenly all I could think of was drowning in the graveyard and how afraid I’d been. The wind out of my sails, I averted my gaze and gulped. “Stay down,” I commanded, much softer than I was originally going to.

“Masuyo, is everything alright?” a voice from the hallway said. “I heard shouting…”

I glanced up and saw it was one of the neighbors, a little old lady whose name I couldn’t remember but whom I vaguely recalled being introduced to by Masuyo when I arrived last Friday. Gregor didn’t turn to acknowledge her, likely to avoid another person freaking out over his unique appearance. Masuyo was already trying to get the PRT involved, and that was the last thing I needed. That meant I needed to undermine her credibility in case she tried to ask this lady for help. It was a Thursday night—I’d known college kids to party on Thursday nights. Alcohol. “Hi again. Sorry, she’s had a bit too much to drink and shouted when she slipped.”

“Who… Oh yes, right. Jake, was it?”

I stiffened at the name and didn’t miss Gregor’s eyes flicking my way. I nearly corrected her, but managed to hold my tongue. The last thing we needed was to engage her more than necessary right now. “I’ll help Masuyo to the couch. Have a good night.”

She clucked her tongue. “You shouldn’t be so hasty, young man. It’s rude you know,” she remarked, but she thankfully turned to leave. “I’m just next door if you need any— I’m sorry, is something burning? I smell smoke.”

“Left the burgers on too long,” Masuyo shakily said as she rolled onto her side. “Sorry, Mrs. C. Won’t happen again.”

“See that you do,” the old bat loftily said. “And do be more careful, Masuyo!”

The lady finally left, and after a few beats of awkward silence, Gregor took a few steps backwards towards the door and gently pushed it closed. The smell of burning meat was beginning to hang heavy in the air, and small clouds of smoke were beginning to waft from the stove. He moved to take care of it before the smoke alarm could go off, and I turned my attention back to Masuyo, who was staring at me again. There was still fear in her eyes. I wasn’t sure if that was good or not. Either way, I couldn’t let this shit go on. “Listen up, and listen good, Masuyo,” I growled at her, clenching my fists to try and control my anger. “You have no right. You have no _goddamn_ right. You think you can just waltz into my life, drag me from my home, and tell me what to do? To act like we have some kind of bond, when you’re just some stranger I met a week ago? To threaten my teammate and call him a _monster_?” My traitorous thoughts helpfully reminded me I had been rude to him when we met too, but I ignored it. _I was altered, or whatever Faultline called it. It’s not the same._

“You can fight him off,” she whispered, her eyes flicking so quickly towards Gregor that I almost missed it. “You don’t have to do this.”

“You really believe that? That I’m being controlled?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Listen up, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once. The only person in charge of my life is me. Not you. Not anybody else. _Me_. Go sit on the couch and be quiet. Do _not_ touch that frying pan until we’ve left. We’ve wasted enough time dealing with your nonsense.”

“June…”

I ignored her and returned to the closet to resume packing. It took a minute, but I eventually felt her slowly rise and move towards the couch. I carefully kept an eye on her with my power as I grabbed my iron and miniature ironing board, but she didn’t go for the frying pan. Giving the closet one last look over, I tugged the suitcase out of the closet’s floor and into the hallway as Gregor rounded the corner.

“I will take care of that. You should say goodbye.”

“I don’t think she deserves it after this,” I muttered.

“There has clearly been a misunderstanding,” he disagreed, his tone imploring. “A significant one, it seems. You will both probably feel different come tomorrow. I said it before: You should not be so quick to abandon family.”

I glared at him and I was just about to tell him where he could shove his ideals about family, but I remembered my conversation with Newter about Case 53s, and my jaw shut with a click. I glanced past him towards Masuyo, who was still staring at the two of us with wide, fearful eyes. I sighed bitterly. “Family isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” I disagreed. He opened his mouth to retort, and I quickly added, “I’ll talk to her. Just… Don’t be surprised when nothing comes of it, okay?” We stared at each other for a minute in silence, and eventually he nodded and turned sideways to give me room to pass his bulk in the narrow hallway. I sighed again and stepped past towards the living room. Now that I was closer, I could see silent tears were falling from her eyes as she stared at me, and I winced. That was twice in three days I’d reduced her to tears. Why was it bothering me so much? She was nothing to me—no one.

And yet her eyes looked just like mine.

I struggled to find the words that wouldn’t make things worse but came up short. Behind me, I heard Gregor zip up the suitcase and move to the exit. Knowing we had a meeting to get to, I forced myself to pull the card out of my pocket and toss it on the rug covering the living room floor. She didn’t so much as glance at it—she only had eyes for me.

“Bye, Masuyo.”

I turned and left without another word. Behind me I heard her sob, and I quickened my pace, uncomfortable. Gregor and I left as quickly and discretely as we could, neither of us saying a word. The sun was finally beginning to retreat behind the mountains bordering Brockton Bay by the time we loaded up the car and left. It wasn’t until we were halfway back to Palanquin that I finally broke the silence. “Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t expect that reaction from her.”

He said nothing for a moment as we made a left turn, his hands smoothly guiding the steering wheel through the maneuver. “You need not apologize for her behavior. She clearly had me mistaken for someone else.”

A beat of silence passed. “I, um… I was going to tell you. That… isn’t how I meant for you to find out.”

“I am sorry if this offends you, but I had suspected that may be the case.”

I clenched my fists and looked away out the window. “Figures,” I said. “You’re not the first, and you probably won’t be the last.” 

“That is why you need money, yes? Living expenses, true, but medical reasons.”

“Ain’t your business,” I muttered, much less heatedly than I had intended to say. It was a bit rude of me, and a part of me recognized I should take it back and apologize, but when I turned to look at him I found my mouth wouldn’t form the words. I turned back to the window and stared at the buildings and people as they passed by, a quiet settling over the van for the remainder of the brief return trip. Depressing thoughts threatened to make themselves heard, but I shoved them down deep with practiced ease. I had no time for thoughts like that. There was no rest for the wicked.

Eventually we reached Palanquin, and Gregor pulled the van into one of the parking spots in a gated, private lot that wasn’t far from the loading bay. Not far away I could see the line that had already begun to stretch around Palanquin, and the music and lights inside were already in full swing. He turned to face me after slipping the gear shift into park, and I unconsciously turned to face him. “If you say you are a woman, then you need say no more, Juniper. It is so.”

The use of my full name startled a strangled laugh out of me, and I realized with a jolt that tears were leaking from my eyes and carving their way down my cheeks. I hurriedly looked away, tugged my mask from my bag, and tied it around my face. I was going to need it anyway. Faultline had warned me to wear it when coming and going with Gregor and Newter to prevent people from connecting my unmasked face with Meteor, the new cape on the team.

“L-Let’s go,” I said, stumbling over the words as I pulled the handle to open the door. Gregor began to climb out as well, and I started towards the front door but quickly had to stop when the crying got so bad I couldn’t see. “ _Goddammit_ ,” I muttered, swiping at my eyes and sniffling. “Stop fucking crying.”

My bulky teammate carefully stepped over to my side. “The only person in charge of your life is you,” he murmured just loudly enough for me to hear, “but your teammates are still here to help you.” I gave up trying to hide the tears as a bad job and just turned to look at him. Strangely, instead of the condescension, disdain, or even annoyance I expected to see in his expression, he wore a sad, gentle smile. I stared, my vision still half obscured by my watery eyes. What was this? Why was he looking at me like that? I averted my gaze, and resumed wiping away the tears until they finally began to taper off. I expected him to get tired of waiting on me and leave, but he never did.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you going inside?”

He took a moment to respond, maybe searching for the right words. “Because teammates do not abandon one another.”

I scoffed. “Not in my experience.”

“You will find we are different.”

I turned to look at him again. The gentle smile from before was now an expression of calm assurance. He believed it. I could see it—he really believed that was true.

“I won’t be surprised if nothing comes of it.”

“Do not be surprised if it does.”

* * *

I critically eyed myself in the bathroom mirror one more time to make sure there weren’t any signs I had been crying. Satisfied, I slipped out of the bathroom and made my way down to the room where the meeting would be held.

“Yo, Newter, Elle,” I greeted the other teens when I slipped in. The room was decently sized without being huge and had a large, roughly rectangular wooden table in the middle with seats surrounding it, a white board with a variety of colored dry-erase markers lining its tray, and a projector screen with a metal pull-down handle. At a guess it was supposed to be a conference room, but that sort of thing was outside my experience, so it seemed more like a weird classroom to me. Faultline would be ‘teaching’ us what we needed to know about my first job, so the comparison was fitting in a way.

“Yo yo!”

“Hello, June,” Elle quietly greeted as well. 

My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I took a seat across from Newter. “Today’s a ‘good day’ then?” She looked away, her cheeks slightly pink. She hadn’t been in the room when I’d woken up, so I hadn’t noticed. Palanquin had other rooms, but Faultline had placed me in the same room as Elle. I’d objected, since I was used to living ‘alone,’ but Faultline had argued it was good for camaraderie. That was the sort of reasoning that was hard to argue against without making me out as ‘not a team player.’ I didn’t think I would be let go from the team if I had drawn a metaphorical line in the sand, but I also hadn’t wanted to deal with the ostracization that might follow and capitulated. Besides, I didn’t think I would mind _that_ much. Elle seemed to be a quiet type, and while I normally didn’t hang out with people like that, they were—by definition—quiet at least.

“I was just telling her you settled on your cape name,” Newter chimed in with a grin matching my own. “S’about time you settled on one! So indecisive!”

I was still in a mood, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t so far gone I couldn’t go for the obvious joke. “There’s nothing wrong with holding out for the right one,” I replied. “I’m a girl with standards.” He chuckled at the double entendre, and I smirked, feeling just a bit better. Elle glanced from me to him and back again, and though she didn’t comment, a small smile found its way to her face. Yeah, definitely a quiet type.

Faultline and Gregor entered the room a moment later, and her gaze moved straight to me. “June, Gregor was just telling me about your trip.”

 _Ah fuck. Of course he told her_. “Okay…”

Newter looked intrigued, and she regarded me for a moment longer before asking, “Do you need a new ID? I already gave you an advance, so it would need to wait until after this job unless you want to spend that advance, but I have contacts I can tap.”

 _She really is shameless about charging me money_ , I thought, though I didn’t mind too much. She was holding me accountable for what I owed. I was willing to bet Faultline understood what Masuyo just didn’t seem to get. If you paid your own way in the world, then you were free. If you didn’t pay, then whoever _did_? They owned you. “I need that, yeah. Thanks.”

Faultline nodded in acknowledgment. Newter’s curiosity was palpable now, but I studiously ignored him. Gregor took a seat by me, and Faultline tugged down the projector screen before moving to the head of the table and setting down her laptop. The projector came to life, and a blueprint for an armored truck splayed across the blank screen. “An armored convoy will be transporting a prisoner from a holding facility in Providence to the PRT building in Boston. We’ve been engaged to break out the prisoner and transport her from Providence across the border to Montreal. The prisoner is Paige Mcabee, also known as Bad Canary.”

_Well, now I know why she was concerned about whether I could lift an armored car earlier._

“Wait, Bad Canary the singer?” Newter interjected. “Dude, her shit’s _good_. You can’t listen to ‘Lineless’ and not feel something.”

“If you’re done educating us about her musical talent, Newter?” Faultline drawled. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, and she pulled out a laser pointer— _Goddamn, she’s like a real life Batman. How much random shit does she have stored in her costume?_ —and began to gesture at a section of the blueprint that seemed to be detailing the bottom of the vehicle. “The transfer will be occurring almost two weeks from now on a Sunday afternoon, presumably to limit the traffic the convoy will encounter will still maintaining high visibility. We will be ambushing the convoy in the city, as any attempt on the highway will be too open and at speeds that aren’t safe to engage without risking serious injury to the prisoner, guards, and drivers nearby. Based off our testing earlier, my original hope that June could remotely lift the car into the air and forcibly move it to an isolated location won’t work. June, we’ll need you to damage or remove the drive shaft to stop the vehicle then remove the rear doors so we can extract the prisoner.”

“I have no idea what that is,” I pointed out. Cars and their construction weren’t a hobby of mine.

“I figured that may be the case. We’ll practice before the mission at a junkyard, but we’ll need to do it at night to avoid arousing too much suspicion. Elle, we will discretely set up position long enough beforehand to give your power time to saturate the area in case we encounter resistance and need to fight.” She turned to Gregor next. “Assuming there isn’t a parahuman escort, which we’ll get to in a minute, you’ll need to create an adhesive to hold the guards in place and prevent them from firing their weapons long enough for Newter to get in and touch everyone.”

“Bad Canary too?” Newter asked, his tail thrashing a bit, though it seemed to avoid moving anywhere near Elle.

“Yes, it will be safer to transport her that way,” Faultline affirmed. “The PRT will have her bound in some way that prevents her from using her power, but we shouldn’t take any chances.”

“Woah, woah, woah, hang on,” I cut in. “Powers?” I looked at Newter. “I thought you said she’s a singer?”

“Her voice _is_ her power,” Newter explained with some enthusiasm. “Makes her sound amazing!”

“More importantly, it gives her a master rating,” Faultline added, giving Newter a look. If his grin was anything to judge by, it didn’t really seem to bother him. “Are you familiar with the standard PRT power classifications, June?”

“Kinda. Master means she can control people, right?” _That raises all sorts of questions about Masuyo’s reaction to Gregor earlier_ …

“Not all masters control people, but yes, a ‘master’ designation means the power focuses on controlling others or creating minions. An obvious example is Heartbreaker, but a less obvious example would be someone like Blasto, a tinker who specializes in plant-based minions. Pertinently, Paige Mcabee can make anyone who listens to her music incredibly suggestible, like a form of hypnosis. The PRT have allegedly given her a master rating of 8.”

Newter whistled at that, and I gaped. “I thought the PRT only assigned numbers that high to big threats. The fuck did a singer do to get that reaction from them?”

“It’s been freely reported that she was arrested, but the PRT have been keeping the exact charges under wraps under for the sake of operational security while making security arrangements. Our employer, however, has stated she allegedly got in an argument with her ex-boyfriend and told him, ‘Go fuck yourself.’ Apparently he… brutalized himself in order to do so.” We all paled at that, and Elle pulled her feet up into her chair and hid her face in her knees. “That’s assuming our employer has good information and isn’t withholding anything.” She gave each of us a significant look. “We have no way to prove whether these rumors are true or false, and until such time as we can prove definitively that she is not a threat, we must treat her as if she is one. We do our job, and we get out of there. Our employer has quite explicitly confirmed we do not need to free her from her bonds—we need only extract her from the convoy and get her to a drop point in Montreal.”

Gregor leaned forward. “This is a PRT convoy. What resistance might we expect to encounter?”

“From the information I’ve been able to gather regarding the security measures being taken, it’s unlikely the Boston Protectorate will get involved in the transfer until the convoy reaches Boston city limits. Night and Fog, two capes with known E88 affiliations who moved to Boston last year, have been attacking some of the high poverty areas like Fenway, and the Protectorate are likely to keep their capes and PRT platoons closer to home in case of another assault. They’re sparing the armored truck and two officers to ride in the front of the vehicle, but that should be it.” She tapped her keyboard, and the pictures of three capes replaced the blueprints. “That means any resistance is likely to be in the form of capes from Providence, either because they’ve been contracted or otherwise because they feel it is their duty to ensure Paige Mcabee faces justice. Providence isn’t a small city, but the cape population _is_ —enough that it doesn’t have its own dedicated PRT force. That narrows down what capes we may face.”

Her laser pointer danced over the leftmost image, which showed a reedy guy with a wavy blond hair wearing a blue and green outfit reminiscent of a scuba diver, though he wore boots instead of flippers. Some sort of breathing device was built into a mask that covered his face. The outfit looked ridiculous to me, especially the wave emblem on his chest. “This is Riptide. He’s publicly known to be a blaster who creates waves of water out of thin air that he can send flying at opponents. It’s widely speculated that his power has a secondary effect of causing targets hit by it to be struck silent for some amount of time. He’s never admitted to this aspect of his power, but so many reports exist asserting this effect that there’s likely to be at least a grain of truth to it.”

The red dot moved on to dance over the picture in the middle. This one featured a guy of average build wearing a red toga like someone from Ancient Greece, though the golden laurel atop his head, golden domino mask over his eyes, and golden, winged sandals would have made him look out of place or at the very least overdressed. “This is Rubicon. He’s a mover, a minor speedster with the ability to ignore gravity enough to run on walls but not fly. More importantly, he leaves burning circles in his wake that expand to a set size and burn everything they touch except for the surface itself. The circles disappear when he stops moving, and from what I can glean, the circles grow to approximately a three foot diameter.”

She moved on to the last image, and her tone shifted somewhat. “And this is Boudicca. All of these individuals have powers that can prove troublesome in the right circumstances, but she has the most potential to fail our operation. She is a brute and striker, and her power is the least well known despite her being the preeminent hero in Providence. When she strikes others, she gets stronger defensively and weaker offensively. When struck, the opposite is true: She gets stronger offensively and weaker defensively. The offensive boosts are focused on strength and speed, and the defensive boosts are regeneration and resistance to harm. All of that alone would make fighting her difficult, but she can also ‘mark’ her opponents with glowing symbols that seem to boost the effect of her powers on that person.” The woman in the photo didn’t look intimidating if you only considered her slightly taller than average height and the visible gray in her shoulder length brown hair, but her armor, a mixture of bronze plate over leather and forest green cloth, in combination with her bronze helmet, green visor, and light blue warpaint painted a different picture. “If we encounter her, then Elle, June, and I will disengage to a safe distance if possible. Newter would be our best means to put her down, and Gregor might be able to pin her down at low strength levels with adhesive, but it is best to avoid engaging her at all if possible.”

“What about capes besides the heroes,” Gregor pressed. “Is there anyone else who may interfere?”

“It’s certainly possible, and we’ll be going over known villains and rogues in the area, but before we do, does anybody have any questions regarding these three?”

“What if Rubicon jumps?” Newter spoke up. “Not even like across roofs or whatever. What if he literally jumps in place? Does that leave his shit on the ground?”

Faultline considered that for a moment. “That specific situation didn’t come up in the intel, but there was speculation the reason the circles vanish if he stops moving is because the power has a failsafe to protect him from it—that the circles vanish if one would touch him. The people pushing that idea forward argued videos always show him jumping over his circles if he has to cross where he already ran. _If_ that is true, and it is unconfirmed, then I would imagine the answer is no.”

“So dude’s gotta keep running around if he wants to maintain any defensive advantage from the circles,” Newter summarized. “Coolness.”

“Um, I’ve got one,” I said. The four sets of eyes swiveled to me, and I took a moment to regain my cool. I would’ve thought I’d be used to that sort of thing from school, but apparently having the attention of a room full of capes focus on you was more intense. “So about scuba guy’s silence thing.”

“Riptide,” Faultline corrected. I swore I saw the corners of her lips twitch into a smile, but it was gone in a flash, if it even happened at all.

“Sure, him. If he _does_ have that secondary effect of making people silent, then wouldn’t that affect him too if he got hit by it?”

“Perhaps,” she allowed, “but not necessarily. Powers are finicky like that. Some have built-in failsafes, like the one we just speculated Rubicon has, but not all do. New Wave tried to suppress it, but there is a video in circulation of Flashbang being shot while creating one of his namesake flashbangs, which caused him to drop it and hurt himself quite badly.”

That made me wonder what ways I might accidentally hurt myself with my power. Obvious ones like dropping something on myself stood out, but I’d heard of metal poisoning before. I think you had to eat some to get it, but it might be possible I could get it from coins rubbing on my skin when I fly. I’d have to look into it.

Faultline looked at each of us in turn. “No more questions? Then let’s review who else we might encounter…”

* * *

“June, if you wouldn’t mind staying for a moment.”

I froze halfway through standing up. Gregor, Newter, and Elle all slipped out of the room now that the meeting was over. Elle had given me a tiny wave when she walked past that I hadn’t known how to respond to, but if she’d expected a certain reaction from me, then she hadn’t let any disappoint show on her face. “Um, sure? Everything okay?”

“I just wanted to take some time to talk with you about your costume.”

“Oh. Okay. What about it?”

“I mentioned earlier that I have certain contacts. That of course extends beyond fake IDs. Although you’ve been making do with your coins and scarf, I can acquire other items for you as well.”

“At a cost, yeah?” She smirked, and I rolled my eyes. She didn’t need to be so _smug_ about it. “I don’t have anything in mind.”

She drummed her fingers on the table, the smirk fading and a a far away look entering her eyes as she stared at the currently blank projector screen. “Aesthetics can be a factor, though I strongly recommend you focus more on practical aspects, things that will keep you alive. At least for now.”

“You mean other than a shit ton of coins, so I always have enough metal on hand?”

“I mean like dirt or powders kept in metal spheres to be thrown at the enemy as a distraction. Goggles for your eyes, to prevent an opponent throwing something similar at you. Sharp caltrops, since you don’t have the fine control needed to make something similar. You mentioned on the way back from power testing that you can only push one item into the ‘elsewhere’ at a time, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to carry a thin, lightweight metal shield that you can easily take cover behind without needing to merge coins together first.”

 _Woah. I hadn’t thought of any of that. The goggles definitely would have helped a lot against Oni Lee._ “Okay, you got me. That all sounds pretty good.” A thought occurred, and I added, “Actually, a mask with a… what do you call it, a filter? Think that’s right. Anyway, that would have been good to have against Oni Lee. I was choking for half that fight.”

She made a note of that on her computer. “There are construction masks with filters to prevent inhalation of dust. Wearing something like that under your current mask would probably be sufficient, but I’ll see what options are best and let you know the costs. We can discuss options more tomorrow evening.” She returned her attention to me. “Beyond that, there’s the matter of your changing genders.” I tensed, ready to defend myself despite the calm air about her. “There is a reason I mentioned to the team you are using a… I suppose it is not so much false as it is a _new_ name. Regardless, I mentioned it because it is important to head off potential trust issues by making it clear there’s a chance someone may call you a different name. As for your gender… I would recommend mentioning it to the team, but that is far more personal, so I will leave that to your discretion.”

I groaned and shoved my face into my hands. “I’ve already had to do this shit _twice_ now. It’s getting real fucking old.”

“I can only imagine,” she remarked with a shrug. “Gregor mentioned you may have medical needs, and you said something similar in your altered state earlier. Though it’s possible to buy these things outright, it’s very easy to under or even overdose, and there can be drastic consequences. I can’t let you take a shot in the dark with your body like that. It wouldn’t be right.”

I surged to my feet, my fists clenched. “So what, you want me to just deal with it? You think I’m gonna accept that? You have no idea what I’m going through!”

“I own several businesses through shell companies,” she answered, her expression neutral but her tone firm. The non-sequitur threw me. What did that have to do with this? “I will hire you, or rather the ‘you’ we generate false documentation for, at one of them. With you on a payroll, I’ll be able to give you medical insurance in a way that won’t be traced back to here. My sole caveat in providing this for you is that you see a doctor about your treatments and follow their medical advice. I trust that is acceptable?”

“W-What…?” My anger left as quickly as it had come, and I dropped into my chair. “I don’t… _Why_?” Her neutral expression softened just a bit at that. I stared at her, unsure what to make of her. Where was the money-grubber who was charging me for a fake ID and my costume pieces? I frowned, trying to figure out what prompted this change. “I don’t need your charity. People normally pay for that, right? Just… Just charge me.”

She tilted her head and regarded me for a moment. “‘You have no idea what I’m going through,’” she quoted. “Do you know what a hysterectomy is, June?”

Again, I was completely thrown by the abrupt, strange shift of topic. “It’s where a doctor takes out some of a woman’s baby stuff, right?”

Faultline leaned back in her chair, her eyes drifting to the ceiling. “More or less. It’s the removal of the uterus. And do you know what an oophorectomy is?”

“No…?”

“The removal of the ovaries. Those are what generate hormones in a biological female, so anyone who has both ovaries removed needs to take hormones to replace what the body no longer produces.” My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. _Is she saying…?_ “It’s a delicate balance. Too little, and there’s discomfort, but too much, and there are consequences like cancer.” Her eyes returned to mine, and I could only imagine the shocked expression on my face. “You want me to charge you for this. As I’m sure you’ve grasped by now, I am someone who collects what is due. Still, I offer… discounts to my crew. You are aware of Case 53s?” She waited just long enough for me to nod. “Gregor is paying me to find more details, to solve the mystery. I am not charging him as much as I would a client outside of our crew who asked the same, but there is still a cost to everything. Likewise, you are a part of my crew and are entitled to the same. Regarding this particular matter, seeing a medical professional would… put my mind at ease. Accordingly, I am willing to take your acceptance of my help in this matter as payment owed.

“I will ask you again. Is this acceptable?”

“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” There was no other answer I could give. I wanted to ask questions, but I forcibly smothered my curiosity. It was a hassle explaining I’m trans when I didn’t need to, and if I wasn’t wrong about her… Well, I could return the favor. “Thanks, Faultline.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You may call me Melanie when we’re in private, June.”

I huffed out a small laugh. “Sure… Melanie. I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Sleep well. Don’t forget you’re running exercises with Newter and Gregor tomorrow afternoon.”

I slipped out of the room. Gregor and now… Melanie. It was weird. I wasn’t used to business associates giving a damn about my personal life. Back home, I had been polite if it was necessary but otherwise hadn’t given two shits about the people I worked with or their opinion of me, and the same had been true from their end. This crew though…

Elle was in our room when I entered, curled up against the wall up at the head of her bed with her pillow stuffed between her back and the hard surface with her eyes fixated on a book in her lap. The pillowcase, like her bedspread, was vibrant and colorful—a rich, royal purple with flowers and birds adorning it in two lighter shades of purple as well as pure white that offset them. It was notably the only decoration on her side of the room, and her bed was the only furniture besides a small bedside table and a dresser. My side only had a bed and my suitcase for now, but I already had plans to get some more furniture and a computer after I got paid for the prisoner job.

I flopped onto my bed. God, I hadn’t really done anything physical all day, but I was spent. Testing my… my compulsion— _God, it still feels unreal_ —was bad enough, but everything with Masuyo, Gregor, and Faul— _Melanie_ after that? I glanced at the other girl, who seemingly hadn’t moved a muscle since I entered. “Whatcha reading, Elle?”

She jerked a bit, like she had only just then realized I was in the room. “Oh, hello.” She looked down at her book and frowned a bit. “It’s about a girl who finds another world in a wardrobe.”

“Sounds fitting. For your power, I mean.”

Elle nodded absently. She hesitated, chewing on her lip for a second. “Um… I haven’t gotten very far in. Would… would you like to read it too?”

I considered how to answer. I was drained and pretty sure I would fall asleep in short order, but… there was something hopeful in her eyes, and the others had told me about how her powers affected her. Today was a good day, but tomorrow? Nobody, least of all Elle, knew what it would bring. Maybe it was because I’d learned today how easily my own powers could overwhelm me, but…

 _Teammates don’t abandon each other, huh?_ “Alright, budge over,” I said, swinging my feet around to the floor and grabbing my own pillow. “I’m really tired, so don’t get all offended when I fall asleep, got it?” She nodded somewhat excitedly and scooted over to leave some more room at the head of her bed. I tossed my pillow against the bare patch of wall and slipped onto the colorful bedspread beside her. She held out the book, and I realized with some amused exasperation she didn’t want to read to me—she wanted _me_ to read to her. _Not quite what I’d had in mind, but whatevs._ I took the book and flipped it back to the beginning.

“Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, what doesn't happen in this chapter? 2.1 one feels practically empty in comparison. June and Masuyo have another of their, err, family bonding sessions, June gets outed to Gregor, we learn about the crew's next job and some of the capes they may face, we learn some shit about Faultline, and we get Elle cuteness. This chapter is the longest so far too, but it just didn't feel right to put that third scene anywhere but here. We've got two more chapters before an interlude, then the crew are off to Providence to "rescue" Canary. Don't fret though—you won't need to wait that long for some action!
> 
> A bit of a personal stuff: I'm not really religious beyond striving to be a better person in general, but if y'all wouldn't mind keeping my partner in your thoughts, I would greatly appreciate it. They're having some neurological issues that are resulting in lots of bad headaches, general discomfort, exhaustion, and a growing frequency of seizures. We've seen this in the past, but we're needing to see a new neurosurgeon about it due to insurance issues, and the next stage won't be happening until late July.


	10. Forge 2.3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's some action, you lovely people.

I groggily woke to the first rays of sunlight peaking through the room’s window. I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but I had an awful crick in my neck that made that impossible. _Why did I even fall asleep leaning against the wall?_ I wondered while idly rubbing at my sore neck with my off hand, something warm pinning my right arm to my side. I peeled my sleep crusted eyes apart and groaned with embarrassment when I realized I had fallen asleep on Elle’s bed. The other girl was still sleeping, her head lolled over onto my right shoulder. Thankfully, she’d left my shoulder drool free. I didn’t want to wake her, but the crick in my neck demanded I move, and the rumble in my stomach added its opinion. I reached over with my off hand and gently shifted her head to tilt the other way. She frowned a bit, and I swore she was going to wake up, but I managed to shift her to laying against the wall instead of myself.

Free from her weight, I tossed the blanket over us aside and— _Wait, blanket? We didn’t…_ I groaned again. I hadn’t shut the door to our room when I came in last night, and someone must have come by, seen us asleep on the covers, and covered us in a blanket. That was annoying. Sort of nice, if I was being honest, but my irritation being caught in such a position outweighed it. My stomach growled again, prompting me to resume leaving the bed. I had unintentionally skipped dinner last night, and my stomach was making its displeasure known, but I needed to shower first. I grabbed some clean clothes from my suitcase and started towards where I vaguely recalled the closest bathroom was. Some time later, I swung back by our room to drop off my dirty clothes, feeling much more awake, clean, and absolutely ravenous. Elle was still asleep, which was somewhat surprising given the sunlight now streaming in through the window. _Must be a heavy sleeper_.

As I slipped back into the hallway, Faultline emerged from her office down the way. “Ah, June. I was just about to check if you and Elle were awake. Have you eaten yet?”

“Nah, but I was about to. Why?”

“Excellent,” she replied while making her way down towards me. “I imagine Gregor and Newter haven’t eaten yet either. We could arrange for some delivery before leaving for our training.”

My stomach protested the idea of waiting for food, and judging by her raised eyebrow, it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “I forgot dinner last night, alright?” I groused, annoyed by the look. “I ain’t waiting, so I’ll just go out.”

She regarded me for a moment with her calculating gaze, and I felt the urge to rub at the still somewhat sore crick in my neck. “We _do_ keep some communal food on hand in the kitchen. The fridge and cabinets in the back corner are for the team—they have signs on them, so the club staff do not touch them. If the food is for everyone, then it will have a label on it. Perhaps that will suffice.”

I hadn’t known about that stuff yet, but even though she _was_ being helpful, it still chaffed a bit to have her undermine my plans. “Cool, I’ll have some of that then.” I didn’t bother to wait on a reply, tossing her an errant salute as I left for the stairs.

* * *

“Begin.”

I cautiously stepped into the warehouse’s dimly lit main room, trying to inventory all the metal I felt while my eyes quickly glanced over what I could see. I started to tug the coins wrapped around me into the air, and promptly shrieked when I felt someone tap me on the back of the head. I whirled around and glared at Newter, who was clinging to the metal wall with his front pressed against it such that I’d tentatively pegged his pants button as a a wall fixture or something else equally innocuous. He gave me an unrepentant grin and a wave of his gloved hand, and I narrowly repressed the urge to make a metal rod and smack him upside the head with it.

“That’s a failure,” I heard Faultline announce over the building intercom from the manager’s office overlooking the work floor. “Reset, you three.”

“What the hell, man?” I growled at him. “You gonna give me a chance to actually get started?!”

“I’ll let you get further in next time,” he said with a chuckle. “Just had to do that at least once. God, the look on your face was _priceless_.”

“I said _reset_.” I flipped the bird over my shoulder in the direction of the office. “And that’s three laps around the building before the next round, Meteor.”

“Fucking worth it,” I grumbled, prompting more laughter from Newter.

“Get going, or I’m going to add on more.”

I threw my hands up in the air and stomped back the way I’d come. I sincerely debated just pretending like I’d run the laps, but knowing Faultline, she would probably be watching me through the building’s security cameras or something. If they were online anyway? _Ah fuck it. May as well fucking run._ I jogged the three laps—she hadn’t said I needed to _run_ them—but by the time I returned to the designated start area, I was still a bit winded. I certainly wasn’t what anyone would call ‘indoorsy,’ but it wasn’t like I made a habit of jogging or anything. Or I hadn’t yet, at least. That was apparently one more thing Faultline wanted me to start doing. I didn’t see the goddamn point when I could _fly_ , but she had argued cardio was good regardless and it was better to be prepared. I had kept an eye on Newter by his pants button while running, and he surprisingly hadn’t moved from his spot above the door. Shifted a little bit, sure, but he was still there. _What the hell?_

“Begin in 3, 2, 1, now.”

I focused on the hunk of wall Newter was still on, used my power to separate it from the rest of the wall, and rapidly wrapped him in a sphere like I had with Lung. I lowered the sphere to the concrete floor and only then did I step in and lift myself into the air. _One down, one to go._

The room was laid out in what was more or less a grid with long metal shelves with wooden crates lining the area in regular intervals, creating walls of metal and wood that framed blank corridors. The wide open paths gave the illusion of security, but the wooden boxes weren’t precisely stacked, and even those that were more neatly laid out still left some smaller gaps that Newter could have used to hide, were he still in the game. Exercise. Whatever. It didn’t help that I had to get the flag in the center, while Gregor just needed to stop me. _Still, if I can get my eyes on it, then I could pick it up using my coins_. I flew up to the top level, which was roughly ten feet lower than the bottom of the manager’s office. Hovering over the crates to give myself some coverage from anyone on the ground, I started to move along the shelf while glancing around for the flag.

I found it and Gregor before long, rotating around the flag—really just some cloth Faultline procured—lying in a pile on the ground. He was moving in intermittent intervals and clearly trying to watch all around while being unpredictable. I hadn’t noticed previously, but he must have been wearing sweatpants or something similar, since I couldn’t feel anything on him moving. Still, I didn’t need my power to see he wasn’t looking up. With a smirk, I sent some of my coins to float over him and slowly lower down until they were over the flag while just out of Gregor’s line of sight.

In a burst of movement, I made the coins surge down and wrap around the flag, but the moment they touched it, I was whacked on my arm by something from behind.

“Failure,” Faultline’s voice intoned over the speakers.

I spun around and gaped at Newter, who was wearing shorts with a drawstring tie in the front. “What. The actual. _Fuck_. How did you…?”

“Do you know what you did wrong, Meteor?” I glanced over at the manager’s office. Faultline had an intense look in her eyes as she spoke into the microphone. Labyrinth was standing near her but seemed distracted by something above her, as she was craning her head to look straight up. Today wasn’t as good a day as yesterday.

“No, I don’t,” I said, trying my damnedest to keep my tone on this side of acceptable. “I _trapped_ him.” I shot him a glance. “How did you get out of the sphere?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t have to. You trapped my pants, not me.”

With a thought, the sphere I’d made shot into the air and moved over to us. I unfurled the ball and stared when I saw Newter’s pants were stuck to the metal by a glue-like substance. Gregor’s power. “So when I felt you shuffling back and forth… That was you climbing out of your pants?”

“Your problem is you’re being predictable, Meteor,” Faultline said. “Your fight with Rune, then your fight with Lung and Oni Lee… In both of them you leaned on your air superiority, and you’ve told us about flying over Brockton Bay and sensing the metal on your opponents… It wasn’t hard to guess what approach you might take.”

“It… But… The capes in Pr—um, at our next job,” _Woof, last thing I need is her getting on my case about operational security too_ , “won’t know how I fight!”

“Maybe this time,” she disagreed. “But what happens when you run into the same people again? And don’t think I didn’t notice how you focused on the capes. Don’t forget you’ll be running into more than capes on our jobs, and people without powers are still capable of taking you down. The point of training exercises like these are to practice and reinforce what works, yes, but it’s also somewhere for you to try new tactics, to experiment and see what else works. Our testing yesterday was solely focused on where the hard limits of your power are. You need more than power—you need tactics. Now… Reset. And this time, try something new.”

I could kind of see her point, but I still resented being called out in front of the team. I started back towards the entrance, grumbling as I passed by Newter. “Hey, you don’t get to complain! Your pants didn’t get totally ruined here!”

“I warned you this was likely,” Gregor called out from below.

“It was a necessary risk!” he declared, thrusting his hand into the air like a general inspiring his troops. “But we must still acknowledge our loses, lest we lose our humanity! These poor jeans had just gotten that perfect, ‘worn-in’ feeling. It’s a tragedy, I tell you!”

I shook my head, pushing away the small smile that threatened to emerge at his antics. I stepped off the top of the shelf and gently lowered myself down to the ground. _Something different, huh? Alright then. I’ll give you something different. Let’s see you tag me through this, Newter._

A couple minutes later, Faultline signaled for us to start once more, and I tore more metal from the walls and began reshaping it. My initial idea had been to basically make myself into a tank, but my skin had crawled at the thought of being inside something dark and cramped. Instead I decided to take inspiration from those dome shaped climbing bars they had at playgrounds. Metal pulled itself into somewhat stocky bars, and I began to piece them together around me with enough distance Newter wouldn’t be able to tag me by hand, foot, or tail. The overall shape and organization was definitely crude, but it would get the job done.

My cage assembled, I pushed forward into the actual warehouse. I frowned when I realized the cage was just a bit too wide to walk down the aisles and had to pull in the shape a bit at the sides. _Newter’s tail might be long enough to tag me through a hole now. Damn._ There was nothing more I could do without making the holes too small for me to handle. I would just need to be wary.

Newter was nowhere to be seen, and I couldn’t feel any metal moving in the area. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to feel Newter walking on one of the shelves or clinging to the walls or ceiling. Perhaps if he moved quickly enough to cause the metal to shake? Unsure, I kept a weather eye on my surroundings, including the areas above me. He had ambushed me twice now with success, and while Faultline had preached to me about changing things up, I had a feeling Newter wasn’t above sticking to sneak attacks—it’s what I would do with his power.

I started making my way further in, steering somewhat away from where the flag had been before on the suspicion they would have moved it. The further in I went without attack, the more paranoid I began to feel and the less confident I was my cage would hold off Newter. In hindsight, the cage would also make it more difficult for me to dodge any fluids Gregor tossed at me. My defense was more lacking than I’d hoped for, and I didn’t know where Gregor and Newter were. What could I do to overcome that?

A thought struck me. _Could it be that simple?_

I took one last look around to ensure Newter wasn’t already on top of me, ready to strike at a moment’s notice, then I broke apart my cage and started pulling more metal from the walls. My tank idea from earlier wouldn’t have worked because of my limitations, but the principle of covering all my bases still fundamentally worked. If I covered every area by sweeping it with sheets of metal, then I could use the sheets like a form of sonar when they hit something. Soon I had formed what amounted to a massive, incredibly thin comb that stretched across the warehouse with pines covering the entirety of each walkway. It would probably be easy for a regular person to just punch a hole through the metal with it all stretched this thin, but that would tell me exactly where my opponents were.

Giving my ‘comb’ a push, it started sweeping further into the warehouse. The paths that ran parallel to my comb would afford small areas of shelter from me, but it was easy enough to adjust the metal to extend in and cover those gaps as the comb passed by. The real weakness to this approach was I had started my sweep while partway into the warehouse, so if anybody was already behind me, then I would miss them. I watched my back, trusting the comb to cover the rest, and at the second parallel path, I felt someone break through the metal towards me. Too small to be Gregor—it was Newter again. I tried to wrap him in metal, but I had to move it slowly enough to not crush him, and it quickly became apparent he had taken advantage of my caution to slip out and away. I promptly brought the comb back towards me, this time at a faster pace, while readying my coins. I hit Newter again with the comb, and I promptly tore away enough of the comb to form a dome between him and the closest shelf. _Either he reverses course and tries to break through again, or else he sips between the boxes and comes out somewhere right around…_

_There!_

I saw the orange of Newter’s skin before I properly saw anything else. I sent my coins rocketing forward, and I pulled chunks from the dome in through the gaps on the other side. I heard Newter yelp and felt the pressure as he tried to slip past, but I managed to snag him in the metal I had torn from the dome before he could slip away. I pulled him and my coins out as gently as I could, tensely watching my surroundings to see if Gregor would come to assist Newter.

Newter was sticking his tongue out at me once I extracted him from the wooden boxes, and I stuck my tongue out right back. I began wrapping him in a metal cocoon from the neck down. “Don’t shout,” I whispered, “or I’ll have to cover your mouth too.”

“Want to keep things quiet, huh?” he quietly and salaciously replied. “I’ll try, but I can’t make promises if you have your way with me.”

“Omigod, shut _up_ ,” I hissed at him, hoping the relative darkness of the warehouse would hide the redness of my cheeks. “Fucking pervert.”

“Nothing wrong with it if everybody consents,” he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. I raised a piece of metal to hover near his face. “Okay, okay! Shutting up now. Neat trick with covering all the rows, by the way.”

“Thanks. Now be quiet.” I turned my attention back to the comb, fixed the hunks I had torn from it with more metal from the wall, then resumed searching for Gregor and—hopefully—the flag.

Before long, I felt something strike my metal and it swiftly melted before disappearing from my power. _Holy shit, he can make an acid that burns through metal?_ The impact suggested the acid or whatever it was had come from further into the warehouse, but would he have chanced running through straightaway to throw me off his scent? I started flooding the area with chunks of metal from my comb and from the nearby walls, and sure enough, another batch of metal began to melt, this time closer to me than before. Most importantly, he was on the ground. With Newter out of the equation, I should be free to fly again.

 _Well, she didn’t say I_ couldn’t _fly_ , I thought as I wrapped myself in coins and took to the air. I quickly moved to the top of a set of shelves nearby then touched down and stayed low while continuing to try and catch Gregor. Though I now had a much firmer idea of where he was, my attempts to catch him were proving fruitless, since he was melting swaths of my metal at a time. I was replacing it all as quickly as I could, but soon I would run out of metal from the room. Besides my coins the only other metal was the shelves themselves, and pulling from them would likely cause the boxes to fall and more problems from there.

 _He’s gonna reach here soon at his pace. That acid has to be safe to everything that isn’t metal, else there’s no way he’d be risking himself like this for training, and that means he can free Newter when he gets here. Faultline said I win if I get the flag, so how do I get it?_ I glanced at Newter once again and grinned, an idea coming to mind.

I moved quickly to arrange everything, and a few moments later Gregor appeared at the end of the aisle with Newter in it, standing at a T-intersection. He glanced at the wooden boxes floating high in the air over Newter, held aloft by some spare metal, then starting looking around for me. The flag was wrapped around his left wrist. “Meteor, you cannot win. Your attempt was admirable, but you cannot catch me or the flag.”

“I don’t need to catch you. You’re going to give it to me.” His head whipped in my direction, where I was just barely peaking out over the ledge. I slammed a piece of metal into the ground a few aisles over, and though he flinched, he didn’t look away. _Well damn, alright then. Let’s kick it up a notch._

“Is that so?”

I tore the last of the metal from the walls all around the room and began to slam the ground repeatedly, marching each piece his way. “That’s right.”

He backed up a bit, putting more of the perpendicular aisle into his peripheral view, but kept his gaze locked in my direction. I sent a piece of metal flying at him from his right, and he negligently tossed some acid its way. “This is certainly a loud approach. What is to stop me from freeing Newter?”

I made the wooden boxes hovering in the air wiggle a bit. “Because I made the metal untouchable. There’s no dodging this.” I sent two more pieces flying at Gregor from his left, and he splashed them both with one shot. _So he’s a good shot with that stuff of his. Good to know I can rely on that when we get on the job._

“Ah, this is possible.” The constant drumbeat of the banging metal was almost all upon us by now, forming a sort of crowd around us. I had never been to a sports match, but I had seen them on TV at sports bars, and the crowds had always sounded like a dull roar, even through the TV.

“Hope you’re ready,” I warned before dropping the box directly over Newter. Gregor threw acid at it, and I took the opportunity to lunge over the ledge towards him while throwing the rest of the boxes at Newter. The wind whistled in my ears as I plummeted towards the ground, and I saw the brief moment of indecision in his eyes. Would he call my bluff and shoot something incapacitating like glue at me, or would he decide he needed to protect Newter? The indecision was gone scarcely after had I acknowledged its presence, and he began chucking acid at the boxes in rapid fire while taking careful, measured steps backwards. I moved swiftly to close the distance, and he turned his hands on me, having apparently hit all the boxes flying at Newter.

He was too late. His hands were roughly yanked to one side as I removed Newter’s prison from elsewhere, and I covered his hands and bound them together with the metal I had snuck around his wrists from behind while he was too distracted from three other directions. I swiftly pushed the improvised cuffs into elsewhere while I made a controlled landing. I started covering him with metal like Newter to prevent him swinging at me while I approached to get the flag off, but to my surprise he actually started secreting his acid from the rest of his skin.

“Jesus.” He was drenched in acid. Those clothes had to be ruined now. “Bit overkill, don’tcha think?”

He shrugged as best as he was able with the cuffs remaining steadfastly stuck in one spot. “Until you have the flag, the match is not over.”

“Sure, sure.” He had managed to melt a decent chunk of metal, but I still had plenty left and began to form several heavy pillars above him. “So, I’m gonna guess you couldn’t melt through _all_ of this before the impact broke a few bones.”

“You would not do that in a training exercise.”

“Duh. But if you were an enemy, then you would be free game.”

“Draw,” Faultline called out.

“The hell?!” I yelled out. “Why is this a draw? He can’t stop me from getting the flag!”

“True, but Newter could knock you unconscious. That would result in Gregor being badly hurt, however, so it is a draw.”

I whirled around, and to my surprise, Newter had somehow gotten closer to me. The lump of metal containing him lifted up and down in the air for a moment, and he smirked. “Nice of you to leave the bottom open. Couldn’t move while you had it all frozen, but after that?”

I flopped into a sitting position on the ground. “Holy shit.”

“Right? Would’ve been a pretty badass comeback, but I can’t spit that far, and you just had to get all wrath of heaven over Gregor. I’ll take a draw.”

“Reset.”

I glanced at each of the boys in something of dazed wonder before shaking my head and calling out, “I think I need a minute.” _Jesus. These two… they’re in another league altogether._

No answer came from Faultline for a moment. “Very well,” she finally replied. “Release the two of them, then everyone take ten minutes before we resume.”

I freed them both but remained seated. “You two… You’re really fucking good.”

“Thanks,” Newter said, looking inordinately pleased. “Fret not, amiga. Someday you might be half as amazing as me.”

“Do you need anything, Meteor?” Gregor asked, stepping over with some concern in his eyes. “Some water perhaps?”

I huffed out a small laugh and let myself fall back onto the ground completely. _These guys…_ “Yeah… Yeah, that’d be nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who said we can't have action and team bonding? I really, really love Faultline's crew. They're so much fun!


	11. Forge 2.4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all are ready for a ride. Because here... we... go!

The warm summer air washed over me, carrying the scent of the ocean as I took a deep breath in. The sound of seagulls chattering overhead mixed with the beach crowds all around me, the park rides, and their riders into a familiar cacophony.

“Want another drink?” I lazily glanced to my side at the waggling can wrapped in an orange hand. 

“Mmm, yeah.” I reached over and grabbed it. 

“Ha! I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I said that.”

“Sorry, I guess it’s too loud here.”

“Yeah, kinda. We can find somewhere quiet later.”

The orange boy rolled over onto me and gently tugged my hair while rubbing my thigh. “Want to keep things quiet, huh? I’ll try, but I can’t make promises if you have your way with me.”

I smiled at the guitar riff softly starting in the background. “Shut up, you pervert.” He stuck out his tongue at me, and I leaned forward and captured it and his lips with my own lips, pulling him further onto me. We stayed that way for a time, mouths locked in a ferocious duel. The hand on my thigh kneaded me roughly, drawing a harsh groan from deep in my throat. “Goddamn…”

_Knockin’ me out with those American thighs…_

I flipped us over in the bed so I was straddling him, and he winked at me. “Looking good, gorgeous.”

“Omigod, shut up,” I whispered with exasperation and a roll of my eyes. “You’re such a dork.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” he said with a grin. “The look on your face was priceless though.” He glanced to his side, and I turned as well. All six of the milk bottles still stood upright. If milk bottles could be smug, I imagined they would look pretty smug right now.

“I’m no good at these kinds of games. I’m more of the ‘tap them into unconsciousness’ type.”

I laughed. “Sure, I get that, but you missed every toss!”

The attendant behind the counter, a large man with strange skin, laughed heartily at my companion. “Your attempt was admirable, but you cannot win.” He gave me a considering look. “Perhaps the lady can win her own prize?”

“Sure!” I grabbed one of the metal pillars stacked on the counter and levitated it in front of me while jokingly lining up my shot by holding up my hands with my thumbs together and pointer fingers aloft. I sent the pillar flying sideways into the three bottles on the bottom, and it bounced right off without moving them at all.

“That’s a failure. Reset.”

“What the hell, man? Those should’ve fallen over!”

I turned to glare at the attendant, and she crossed her arms and gave me an unimpressed look. “Do you know what you did wrong?”

“No!” I gestured wildly at the bottles. “I hit them square on!”

“Your problem is you’re being too predictable.” She walked over and tapped the leg of the table holding up the bottles. The air around her hand crackled red and blue, and the leg split in two, sending the bottles crashing to the ground.

“That’s bullshit!” I shouted, clenching my hands. “You think I’m gonna accept that?”

“And that’s three laps around the building before the next round.”

I groaned and started to jog. There was a cool breeze blowing, so I didn’t get sweaty, but before long I started to find it was actually a bit _too_ cold.

“It’s too cold in here.”

I glared at the blond-haired twit. “You have a better idea?” I hissed at him. “Stop complaining and be quiet!”

“This was supposed to be easy,” the idiot blubbered. “Why the fuck are the _Teeth_ here?”

I opened my mouth to respond but couldn’t manage to form the words, my teeth were chattering too badly. I pulled the comforter more tightly around me, but— _Wait… A comforter?_

I groaned a bit as I sluggishly rolled over from where I had been facing the wall my bed was pushed up against. I rubbed at my crusty eyes, blinked at what I saw, then blinked again for good measure.

_The fuck?_

I was still with a blond, but this one’s hair was much paler. _Elle_ , I remembered, my thoughts still groggy and slow. She was curled up on a stone slab, her eyes clenched shut and whimpering. Our room was gone, and in its place were the rugged stone walls of what seemed to be a castle. A thick layer of snow coated the stones framing the empty rectangle that had been our window. It seemed to be snowing outside, but it was dark and hard to say. A chilly breeze pushed its way into the room through the gap and left me shivering. My view of the hallway was obscured by a heavy door made of a dark wood, but I imagined more of the same laid beyond.

Another whimper drew my eyes back to Elle, who had curled in on herself while I was examining the room.

“Elle?” I tentatively called out.

No response. Another cold breeze blew in, this time carrying a dusting of snow with it. I scooted further into the corner, where the wind didn’t reach. “Elle,” I tried again, speaking louder this time. “You need to wake up.”

Elle started to stir, but so did something else. The slab under her began to warp and twist, and I watched in horror as a grey wolf began to emerge from it, the stone turning and shifting into flesh with each step the great beast took forward. “Who's there? Who's there? Stand still, stranger, and tell me who you are.”

“Holy fucking shit,” I breathed out, staring wide-eyed. I tried to reach for the coin bag at the end of my bed, but I couldn’t feel anything there with my power. I felt metal further away, but the wolf was only a few feet away now. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

The beast sniffed at me then snorted out some hot air. “Fortunate favorite of the Queen,” it rumbled then turned and lumbered over to the slab Elle laid on and curled up at its base, giving me one last look before closing its eyes. The door to our room swung open swiftly before coming to a halt just shy of slamming into the wall. Gregor and Faultline stood there, the latter with a flashlight in hand, and they quickly examined the scene, their eyes alighting on the wolf.

“Is the creature from her power?” Gregor quietly but quickly asked, fluid of some kind bubbling just beneath the skin of his hands as his gaze flicked between the wolf and me.

I carefully nodded. “Y-Yeah.”

The fluid stopped bubbling as much. “Are you hurt?”

I idly realized I was trembling. The cold? The panic? Both? I pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “No…”

“Elle,” Faultline finally spoke up, her voice raised but her tone gentle. “Reign your power in.”

The other girl finally stirred, waking in a start. Her head twisted languidly to look around the room with lidded eyes. It took a couple minutes, but the stone slowly began to retreat, leaving our room in its wake. Even my coins, which earlier had been completely gone, I felt once more as the bag containing them folded back into existence.

“Sorry,” Elle said, the lone word packed full of meaning. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more, but after several moments passed with no more words forthcoming, it seemed she couldn’t manage anything else. 

Today hadn’t been a great day, and I knew her power was stronger when that happened and that it could seep out sometimes. But this? This was something different. As the last of the stone faded away, Elle’s bed returned as did the book laying upon it. “The wolf. Narnia. You made it real.”

Elle slowly turned to examine the book, blinked at it once, then returned her gaze to me. She said nothing.

Faultline carefully stepped around Gregor and further into the room, kneeling beside Elle’s bed. “Elle, did you do your exercises before bed?” The girl sluggishly turned to face the older woman but said nothing. If she was frustrated, Faultline hid it well as she added, “We will talk about this more when you’re able.”

She stood and turned to look at me. She said nothing, but I could practically hear the silent question: ‘Do you want to sleep somewhere else?’ I hesitated. Reason said I should. Camaraderie or no, the wolf could have attacked me, and I might not have been able to defend myself in time. Even still, I minutely shook my head. Something in her gaze shifted—what I couldn’t say—and she gave me a quick nod in return.

Eventually she and Gregor left, closing the door behind them, and I looked to Elle. She was mirroring my posture, her knees and her long hair hiding almost all of her face with just her eyes peeking out through the gap. It was dark again, but I could just barely make out the book on her bed. I had been so tired tonight that the thought of reading with her again hadn’t even remotely crossed my mind. Had this happened because she was reading? It didn’t happen yesterday, or if it had happened, then I somehow hadn’t woken up. Was it because today wasn’t a very good day? I hadn’t heard Elle speak all day despite riding with us to the warehouse out of town for the training session, and she had spoken a single, solitary word just now. “Sorry,” she’d said. The wolf had scared me— _she_ had scared me—and with the one word she managed to say today, she made a point to let me know she was sorry.

My chest felt a bit strange at the thought.

I turned on my phone’s flashlight and laid it down while still plugged in. “Is it just me, or are you wide awake now?” She slowly turned to look away at the floor closer to the door. Too slow to be an indication she was embarrassed. Seeing something I couldn’t? I took it as an answer regardless. I let my feet flop to the floor with a thud and reached over to grab my pillow. “I’m gonna come over and read for a bit.”

No response, but I wasn’t expecting one at this point. I moved Elle’s pillow so it was between her back and the wall. “You can lay back if you want.” She flopped back like someone cut the strings of a puppet, all but her head which remained unerringly fixated on the floor by the door. I tossed my pillow next to hers, scooped up the book, and curled up next to her. There was no bookmark, so I started flipping through the pages. “Um. We were at Christmas—like, Santa showing up. Last thing I remember, anyway.” I glanced her way, and maybe it was just me, but she seemed to be smiling a bit. “Cool. Here we go then.”

“‘I've come at last,’ said he. ‘She has kept me out for a long time, but I have got in at last.’”

The beginnings of lacquered, black boots began to fold into existence from the floor, slowly revealing a large, rotund man in a bright red outfit who was unmistakable. I paused in my reading at the sight and watched with interest as snow blossomed from beneath his feet and covered the floor. The ‘Santa’ procured a blanket from the large bag at his feet, stepped over to us, and draped it around us. The bite of the cold that had returned with the snow did not penetrate, and an unnatural but gentle warmth began to suffuse me.

I smiled and resumed reading. Every now and then I would glance up at the world of the children’s book come to life and marvel at the beauty of the show intended just for two.

* * *

I stared at the smorgasbord of stalls and did my best to not let my eyes drift over to where the Boat Graveyard laid, visible from where I hung in the air high above the streets below. I found myself reconsidering whether this was the best way to unwind before the mission. This was the best place to stay within my price range—at least until I had been paid for tomorrow’s work—but this place was pretty closely tied to some not so great memories. I considered the Boardwalk but ultimately dismissed the idea. The Market didn’t have creepy goons enforcing the shopkeepers’ will, and even though the Graveyard was _right there_ , I wouldn’t be able to see it from the ground.

Blowing out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, I dipped towards the ground and angled for the nearest abandoned alley. The moment I was on terra firma once more, I double-checked no one was around and slipped my mask and coins back into my bag. Not that the former was the entirety of my mask, not after everything Faultline had helped to acquire, but I forcefully pulled my thoughts away from my costume for now. Today was about relaxation. Work would wait until tomorrow.

I began the brief hike over to the market proper and zipped up my jacket halfway to ward off the chilliness of the windy October day. I didn’t have any firm ideas of what I was planning to do beyond grab a bite to eat, window shop, and maybe buy some winter clothes. I needed to shore up my winter wardrobe, which was decidedly lacking. I hadn’t begun replacing my clothes until this summer, so I presently had almost nothing that would be serviceable when winter truly hit the Bay. Still, I didn’t have much left from my advance after the additions to my costume, so I would need to stretch out what I had. Stealing was unfortunately not an option, now that I was part of the crew.

The last time I’d been here, I had suspected the Market would be much busier on the weekend, and I definitely wasn’t wrong. I had wanted to invite Newter to come with me for company, but with how busy the foot traffic was, I knew I had made the right call not asking him to come. He would have been unintentionally knocking people out by accident left and right. I also would’ve needed to keep my mask on, so there was that too. Not having had lunch yet, I began looking for food stalls first while idly noting anything of interest to come back later and check. After about ten minutes of searching, I finally found some food. I hadn’t thought there was any organization to the layout of the stalls, but given the sheer number dedicated to food in this area, I realized there must be some planning put into placement after all. It felt oddly reminiscent of a mall food court, and the mixture of smells filling the air together with the bustle of the crowds was a veritable assault on the senses. I followed one of the rows and passed several dedicated to seafood, one with Korean food, another that was an American and Italian fusion, and one that was filled with homemade baked goods.

Finally I came across one serving Vietnamese food, and another chilly breeze passed by, convincing me that some phở would be just the ticket. I had only had the broth a few times, but it had always warmed me right to the core. My eyes alighted on a walking riot of color just as I started to turn towards the stand, and I did a double take when I realized who it was. Standing in line for the burger stand a few stands down was none other than Aisha, who was sucking on a lollipop and wearing a pair of eye-wateringly bright neon green, torn jeans, matching neon green lipstick and painted nails, a purple studded collar with a matching one around her right wrist, a graphic tee with a half-naked lady splayed across it, the same over-sized brown bomber jacket she’d worn the last time I had seen her, and large, chunky boots that looked like they’d been spray painted orange.

“Yo, Aisha!” I called out. “What’s up, girl?”

She glanced my way, and after a second’s confusion, her eyebrows shot straight up. Popping out the lollipop, she said, “Junebug, that you?”

I snorted as I crossed over. “You’re the only person who calls me that, you know?”

“It’s a burden I’m forced to bear,” she replied without missing a beat.

“Hey, no cutting in line!” a lanky guy behind her in line barked at me.

“I’m just saying hi, douchebag. Chill the fuck out.”

“Yeah, right up until she gets to the front.”

Aisha rolled her eyes, stepped out of the line, and gestured broadly at the newly vacant spot. “There, I ain’t in line anymore, you rudeass prick.” The two of us flipped him the bird simultaneously, shot each other a look, and fled laughing before the asshole could shout at us anymore. Once we were further away, the other girl turned to me and asked, “The fuck you been? Ain’t seen you around school in ages.”

Whoops. Should’ve thought of a good excuse for that first. Actually, on second thought, did it really matter if I said the truth? I doubted she was the sort of person who would think less of me for dropping out of school, and if she was… well, I thought she was fun to be around, but I wouldn’t want to hang out with someone like that. “I’m not going anymore. Got a job.”

“Uh huh. You realize that ain’t how that shit works, right? Unless you’re with a gang.” She ran her eyes up and down me. “And it don’t look like you’re wearing the right colors for that.”

“I didn’t join the ABB,” I replied with a shudder, thinking of my fight with Lung and Oni Lee. I was wearing the same gray jacket I had been wearing the day I met her over a pale pink, long-sleeved shirt, some faded blue jeans, and a pair of worn sneakers. I didn’t have much red or green in my wardrobe, and I had made a point to avoid wearing any. _Damn shame too. I really liked that turtleneck_.

Her eyebrows rose again. “Alright, I’ll bite. Gimme the deets.”

 _Ah shit. Where was Melanie putting me on the payroll again?_ I couldn’t remember the actual company name, but I remembered what the company allegedly did—or maybe they actually did do it, who was to say—and I figured that would be enough. “It’s a temp agency thing. Some business needs someone for this or that, and I get placed there for a set period. Means I’m never in one place for long.”

“Uh huh. And I assume they shower you in money and promise it’ll never end.” I opened my mouth to reply to that, but she pressed on, asking, “How did you even get this ‘job’?”

I could practically hear the air quotes around ‘job.’ Well, it _was_ a lie, and while I wasn’t a bad liar or anything, it wasn’t like I was especially good at it either. _Well, let’s throw in some of the truth then_. “I broke into a nightclub a couple weeks back. Owner took a liking to me and hired me at one of her other businesses.” The last part was a bit of a stretch but technically true. The mercenary aspect was separate from the nightclub, even if the veil was a thin one given Newter’s soirees in the balcony and my own little shows when the fancy struck me. 

She stared at me, and for a second I thought I had broken her. After a moment, she burst out laughing. “That is either the worst lie ever or the most random chain of events ever. I’m not sure which I want it to be.”

I shrugged and gestured at the Vietnamese food stand that was still nearby. “I was just about to grab some lunch then do some light shopping. Wanna come?”

She looked at the stand. “What kind of food is that?”

“Vietnamese.”

“Huh. I ain’t ever had Vietnamese before. They don’t serve the food alive, do they?”

I laughed. “I mean, they might do that in Vietnam for all I know, but they sure as hell won’t here.”

She grinned. “Then fuck it, I’m down.”

Thankfully the stand’s phở was pretty good, which made it perfect for introducing Aisha to Vietnamese. I was surprised when she ordered a bowl that included tripe, which I would eat but didn’t particularly care for. My surprise lasted all the way up until our food came out and she realized what tripe _was_ , at which point I naturally laughed at the look on her face. I had to give her props in the end because she did still try it. She couldn’t stand it, as it turned out, but at least she tried it.

Once our food was finished, our bodies warmed up, and Aisha’s horizons expanded, we paid and slipped back out into the market.

“So, did you have anything in particular you were looking for?” I asked, as we started ambling down a path at random.

“Nah. Just wanted to get out of the house.”

“Cool, cool. Well, I need to get some winter clothes.” I shot her a smirk. “Not sure I should bring you along though… Your bad fashion sense might be a negative influence.”

She cackled. “I’m the _worst_ influence, but you need a bit’a that, Miss Prissypants.”

I released a faux harrumph while starting to steer us back towards one of the shops I’d seen earlier. “Certainly not! You may attend me, but I shall have none of your shenanigans, you hooligan!”

Only half the shops I’d eyeballed earlier ended up panning out with the rest having prices too high or shoddily made clothes. We thankfully still ended up finding some good items I was pretty confident I could mix and match well enough. Soon my arms were growing numb from all the bags hanging off them, and I all but shoved some of them into Aisha’s arms and declared, “I don’t care if you haven’t bought anything. I’m not hauling all this around when you’re right there and empty-handed!”

That had sparked an amused glint in the other girl’s eyes. “Foisting shopping bags on others, huh? You’ve got the princess act down, Princess Junebug.”

That was, of course, the moment we saw it. A pale pink beret with a blue, metal butterfly attached to it with push pins. I liked the color, but despite its size seeming to indicate it was made for an older teen or maybe a somewhat petite woman, the design screamed ‘little girl’ to me. Aisha, however, flitted over to it and declared, “And a princess needs her crown!”

“No way.”

“Aw, c’mon! You’d be cute as shit wearing this.”

“You’re just yanking my chain!”

“Nope, I’m bein’ legit. Buy this or I’m buying it for you.”

 _Uh huh. I’m sure_. “Well I guess you’re buying it, ‘cause my money is staying in my pocket.”

She shrugged and started walking over to the shopkeeper. _No way_. She pulled out some money from one of her bomber jacket’s pockets. _What the fuck_. The lady manning the register handed over the hat and change for the bill. _No really, what the_ actual _fuck?_ Aisha marched back over to me, pulled the thing down over my hair, eyed me critically for a moment before making an adjustment, then all but shoved me in front of the mirror next to the rack of hats on display.

I stared, completely discombobulated by the past minute. Still, in spite of myself I still couldn’t help but note it did look _kinda_ cute, matching my current outfit just right. If nothing else, it certainly jazzed up my shitty haircut.

“See? Cute as shit. Tried to tell you.”

“You… you actually bought it.”

“ _Duh_. I told you I would.”

I pulled my bag around, fished inside it for a moment, then shoved a bill at her that would cover the hat. “Here,” I mumbled, feeling weird about how the beret looked on me.

Aisha stared at it with a look of consternation. “What’s this?”

“For the hat.”

She frowned. “ _Girl_. I _said_ I would pay for it.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to try to chill and explain. I liked Aisha and didn’t want to alienate her. “I don’t do debts. I need you to take it.”

Her eyes flicked to the money then back up to my eyes. She gave me a hesitant nod. “Then buy me something instead. It’s an exchange then.”

I blinked, somewhat unsure. Nobody had ever suggested this before, and the thought of repaying a gift with a different gift hadn’t occurred to me either. This was uncharted territory. “Um… Okay. What do you want?”

“Oh lord, that ain’t how you do it,” she replied, rolling her eyes in what seemed like fond exasperation. “You gotta pick it out.”

I frowned but nodded. “I’ll get you something before we leave.”

“Doesn’t _have_ to be today.”

“Yes it does. It’s a debt otherwise, and I don’t do debts.”

“Whatever you say, Junebug.”

I poked her in the belly. “I’m gonna come up with a silly nickname for you too, if you keep that up.”

“ _Whatever you say, Princess Junebug,_ ” she repeated, tossing in a ‘princess’ and a smirk for good measure.

Ooo, payback was gonna be delicious.

“Anyway, all that aside, I _did_ say we’d get you something rockin’ for school, didn’t I? Not that you’re coming anymore or nuthin’.”

I stared at her, uncomprehending for a few seconds then I facepalmed. “Ugh, you _did_ say we should meet up at the Market last Saturday.”

It was her turn to harrumph. “You stood me up! The nerve!”

“Sorry! The job thing was so sudden, and I didn’t think… I mean I kind of… Um…” I trailed off, searching for the right words. There really wasn’t a good way to explain ‘I kind of forgot you existed for a bit there’ without explaining _why_. Namely that I had been caught up in the crew giving me a crash course on fighting other parahumans in preparation for tomorrow. Powers had very abruptly become a central fixture around which my life revolved. I would have been more freaked out by it if it hadn’t all felt so natural.

I don’t know what Aisha saw in my expression, but there was a flash of genuine hurt in her eyes that was impossible to miss—I had seen the look in the mirror too much to not. I had tried to convince myself more than enough times that I should just stop giving a fuck about what the world thought of me, but I had never been able to manage it. How much it bothered me to be in someone’s debt was one way it manifested, and how much it bugged me to be misgendered was right there with it.

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to lie, but I could state as much of the truth as possible—only lie about what I had to. “Listen, I’m not supposed to talk about the details, but I’ve got a big job tomorrow, and since I’m new, my teammates have spent the last couple weeks rushing my training to get me ready. I got so caught up in it, and I… I didn’t think. Sorry…”

Aisha seemed to realize she had been visibly upset and quickly schooled her face into a smirk that was obviously forced. Grabbing my arm, she dragged me over to another stall while saying, “Ah, don’t worry about. C’mon, I think I saw some long-sleeved tees over here!”

 _She hates me_. I couldn’t get the traitorous thought out of my head. It was obvious, but what could I do about it? I watched her out of the corner of my eye as I pretend to flick through the racks and she did the same. The bill was still in my hand, so my thoughts gravitated back to the beret on my head. She seemed blase about debts. Maybe I could get her an especially nice gift? She dressed like she was actively trying to offend the sensibilities of everyone around her, so I imagined clothes were out. Nice clothes wouldn’t fit her aesthetic at all. Today was the first time I had seen her wearing jewelry—well, accessories more like—but that _might_ work? Seemed a stretch, so I filed that one under Plan C. This wasn’t the first time she had worn makeup, and she’d had the colored stripe of hair the whole time. Maybe cosmetics or a box of the loudest color hair dye I could find.

My thoughts ran on a loop, desperately reviewing everything I knew about her while we continued to move from shop to shop. The conversation, which had flowed freely between us earlier, was obviously stilted now. I wanted to fix it but didn’t know what to do. The afternoon was going straight to hell on a crash course, and I was powerless to stop it. Plan A and plan B never came to fruition, and if my arms hadn’t been weighed down with bags, I probably would’ve been tearing my hair out. Eventually it started to get late, the sun starting its final approach towards the horizon. 

Aisha turned to face me, another obviously plastered on smile on her face. “I’ve got a bus to catch, so it’s time for me to bail.”

“M-Me too!” I blurted out before my brain could point out to my mouth that it was a stupid, stupid lie.

Her eyebrow quirked up. “Uh huh,” she drawled. We were both silent for a moment, then she huffed out a breath of air and turned to lead the way out of the market. I followed along, frantically wracking my brain for a way to fix the friendship I was watching unravel right before my eyes. I was so distracted by my thoughts that I didn’t even notice we had walked clear past Lord Street a block or two into a more run down area of the Docks until I just about ran into Aisha. 

She turned and gave me an unimpressed look. “Let me guess. It just so happens your bus is the same bus I walked out here to catch, right? You know, the _doesn’t exist_ line?”

I winced. “Aisha… I…”

“June—” _Fuck, am I actually upset she didn’t call me ‘Junebug’?_ “—I had a good time today.” She sighed, her facade cracking a bit. “Or… I was. You don’t have to pretend to like me. Ya can just say it, you know…”

 _What?_ “But I _do_ like you!”

“Doesn’t seem like you like _me_ ,” she remarked, holding up her bag laden arms and jiggling the bags. “Seems like ya just wanted company for shopping.”

 _Oh fuck me_. “But—”

“And look, I _get it_. I like company too, but…” She sighed again, this one more bitter than the last.

“You guys hear that? She likes company.”

The two of us turned and saw two Asian men and a woman decked in red and green approaching. I instinctively began searching the area for other threats and for metal, the act practically drilled into my brain at this point from all my practice the past two weeks. Thankfully we only had three gangbangers to worry about. _Unfortunately_ we had three gangbangers to worry about. Nobody else was around, unless they were watching through a window, and this far enough into the Docks it was probably ABB territory. If shit went sideways, nobody would call the police or come to help—they would never risk Lung’s wrath.

“That’s good. She’ll fit right in with the others,” the lone woman of the group said, a dark smile on her lips. She looked my way. “Yo, I haven’t seen you around. This doesn’t concern you. Beat it.”

 _Like hell._ I couldn’t overtly use my powers, not when they had seen my face. I hadn’t forgotten Melanie’s warning that Lung had been trying to recruit me. If I showed my powers, then all Lung would need to do was pair one of these clowns up with a sketch artist or something, and he would be able to put out a bounty for me or something. No, I couldn’t let my powers be tied to my face, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t use them at all. A plan forming in my head, I snarled at them, “You think you can start shit because we’re alone? Joke’s on you, my dad and his buddies are just off getting the—” _Yeah, that one will work._ “—van where he parked it. They’ll be here any second.”

“You’re lying,” the woman countered.

“You actually think she’s bluffing? Girl, gimme some of what you’re having. Must be good shit,” Aisha quipped, playing along. “Gonna be fun watchin’ Mr. F and the boys wail on your asses if you don’t buzz off.”

The guys looked uncertain, but the woman was unmoved. I pegged her as the brains of the group and the guys as the muscle, but if everything went to plan, this was going to be over in a minute anyway and they would be a distant memory. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll just have to teach beret girl some manners before we drop off the black bitch. Grab them both.”

The guys started forward but froze as the sound of rubber on asphalt filled the air. Behind them the empty van I had hijacked from a block over finished rounding the corner and began racing towards us. I pushed the van as fast as my power would allow, and I whispered furtively to Aisha, “Be ready to jump in.”

The three ABB hastily dove out of the way as the van skidded to a halt in the empty space ten feet away from us where they had been just moments prior. The side panel was sliding open long before it had come to a stop, and Aisha and I sprinted towards it and all but dove in. The door slammed close as the woman shouted at us in an East Asian language I couldn’t understand, and I wasted no time accelerating the car forward, leaving the wheels squealing for a moment before they grabbed traction.

My backpack had half fallen off in the rush to get inside, and I abandoned it and the bags of clothes to move to the front seat, so I could see well enough to make sure we didn’t run into something. Detecting the metal around us alone wasn’t a full-proof guarantee against all obstacles, after all.

“Uh, June?”

“Kinda busy, Aisha,” I distractedly replied as I brought us back around to Lord Street. There was enough traffic still on the street, and the sun not yet quite behind the mountains. I doubted those three gangbangers would come after us at this point, and I started pulling over to a spot where I could stow the van at the side of the road.

“Yeah… Really busy _steering_.”

“Exactly, I—” Oh shit. My hands weren’t on the wheel. “I, uh…” _Oh fucking shit_ , and nobody else is _in the goddamn car_.

The van jerked to an abrupt stop, and someone behind us honked loudly, drawing a wince from me. I hastily pulled the van the rest of the way out of the street then slowly turned to face Aisha.

The other girl’s smirk was back, and this time there was nothing fake about it. “Well, well, well… It all suddenly makes sense.”

“Aisha…”

She idly poked at the floor with her orange boots, and I realized she was messing with the coins that had begun to spill out of the slightly open top of my backpack. “Metal control, right? I _knew_ that pile of pennies was too perfect!”

Jesus, she _remembered that_? I actually thought I had gotten away with it too. “I, um…”

“I already believed you when you said you hadn’t joined the ABB, and that whole showdown back there pretty much solidified it. Ain’t a snowball’s chance in hell you joined the Empire, and you’re too clean to be a Merchant. You don’t seem the type to be a Ward, and getting pulled out of school would only make sense if they were moving you to Arcadia or whatever, and there’s no reason for you to avoid mentioning being transferred to Arcadia. So that means you’re not a goody-goody two-shoes either.”

She leaned forward, her eyes alight with intensity. “That leaves one of the small-time gangs or something like it. I’m guessing that’s what your job tomorrow is?”

Was there even a point to lying when you were caught this badly? I could lie and claim I was a solo villain, or whatever it was the PRT called capes that weren’t heroes or villains, but… 

_I really fucking hope this doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass_. I took a steadying breath and carefully nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, something like that. I… I’m not supposed to say anything, but… I _swear_ I wanted to tell you. And I dunno know why you think I don’t like you, but until I joined this crew, you were literally the only person I would call a friend in this shithole city.”

Something in Aisha’s expression shifted, and she looked away for a moment. The emotion still burning brightly in her gaze probably would have torn a hole in the floor if she… had… powers? My jaw dropped as Aisha’s face and visible skin melted into an inky black color, and her whole body seemed to twist and writhe for a moment before the inky shadows reformed into someone who was unmistakably _me_ , albeit in Aisha’s outlandish wardrobe. One of the coins from the backpack lifted into the air and swirled in lazy arcs between her fingers.

I wasn’t moving it.

“If that’s really true… then tell your boss I want in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Beta, RoyalJelly, questioned whether Elle's power can actually create creatures, and I argued that with everything she can create it would be weird if she couldn't create lifelike facsimiles (notably not actual living, breathing creatures). Also, cute bonding scene with Elle, so your argument against said scene is invalid!
> 
> Both June and Aisha: "Fuck, she hates me." Silly teenage girls and your misunderstandings. Also, June is really bad at this whole secret identity thing.
> 
> Next chapter is an interlude, then we're diving into Providence and freeing Canary.


	12. Forge 2.z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got all of my partner's tests done last week, but the doctor's been on vacation this week. This week's been just a bit stressful! Still, Friday is here, and I have more for all you lovely people. Enjoy!

Sabah winced at the grinding sound of the transmission as she slid her car into park. “Gonna have to get that looked at soon,” she grumbled. As a successful rogue, she wasn’t hurting for money per se, but accommodating NEPEA-5 meant she took a lot less profit from her boutique, The Dollhouse, than she would if she didn’t have powers, and that meant being frugal wherever possible. Thankfully she was able to secure a storefront near Brockton Bay University, which cut down her commute significantly but far more importantly was in a safer section of the city where she wasn’t really bothered by the very race focused gangs. 

It was important to avoid the gangs on principle, but it was especially important as a person of color. She took great efforts to hide her heritage as Parian, her cape identity, in the hopes of challenging people’s conceptions about race when she made it big and unveiled herself, but it was likewise a preemptive self-defense against being targeted by the gangs of the city. Unfortunately, that same defense did not extend to her civilian identity, so she still needed to be careful coming and going from the Dollhouse.

She turned off the car, pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her bag, and brought up her text history.

[still good 4 economics 2nite?]

[I’m a bit distracted, but I should be good. Let me know when you’re here.]

She slung the over-the-shoulder bag across her chest and made her way inside, tapping out a quick response,

[here be up soon]

In short order she reached the right floor by elevator and started down the hall. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of burning meat as she turned the corner, bringing the intended apartment into sight. She nervously adjusted the heft of her bag strap, consciously avoiding using her power to do so in case someone unseen happened to be watching. The acrid scent worsened as she approached the door and knocked, and she did her best to ignore it while hoping whoever was abusing their kitchen would give up and order take out instead.

After a minute’s wait with nobody answering, she frowned and checked for any new messages but found none. She knocked again, waited a few moments more, then called out, “Masuyo, are you there?”

“I’m… here,” came a faint reply.

Sabah tentatively twisted the knob of the door and found it unlocked. She slipped inside and shut the door behind her, choking a bit as the intensity of the smell worsened. Her classmate was sitting on her living room couch and did not look up as she entered, resolutely staring at the floor. Sabah briefly dipped into the small kitchenette on the left and saw the smell was coming from several blackened hunks of meat in the sink that were flaky despite being wet. “I, um, see you had some trouble with dinner.” Masuyo made a noise caught halfway between a bitter laugh and a distressed whine that left Sabah quite concerned. “I could make a call for takeout, if you’d like?”

“I… need to make a call.” Masuyo slumped forward, planting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. “I just… I don’t know if I should.”

“Okay?” Sabah moved from the kitchenette into the living room and noticed there was a frying pan and what looked like a business card on the carpet. “I’m getting the feeling something bad happened.”

The other girl huffed out the most depressed sounding laugh she had ever heard. “Yeah… I fucked it all up, Sabah, and I don’t know what to do.”

Whatever this was, it was clear their economics project would have to wait. “I’ll… just take a seat, shall I?” She deposited her bag on the floor and gently sat on the couch, consciously maintaining a respectful distance. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Masuyo pushed off her knees and bonelessly flopped backwards into the couch. “I do, but…” Her head twisted to face Sabah, whose heart sped up at the intensity of and proximity of those expressive, chocolate brown eyes. “It might be best if you didn’t get involved. The PRT are going to get involved one way or the other.”

“Oh? A cape’s involved?” Sabah mentally patted herself on the back for somehow keeping a level voice and neutral expression. There was no way Masuyo could have discovered she was Parian, and even if she _had_ , there was no reason to involve the PRT. Everyone knew her cape identity was a legally registered rogue. “Must be quite the story. Is their power burning hamburgers?”

That startled a laugh out of Masuyo. “No, no. That was me. I might have dumped them on the burner, so I could threaten a cape with the skillet?”

Sabah blinked and double checked, but there was definitely no obvious damage to the apartment. _I guess that’s why the frying pan is on the carpet,_ she thought. “If a cape barged into your apartment, then _yes_ , you’re supposed to call the PRT.”

She ran her hands over her face with a sigh. “I know, and if you’d asked me earlier today what to do, then I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes, but it’s… complicated.”

“How about you start from the beginning?”

“The beginning. Right. Well…” She hesitated for a moment before sighing again, seeming resigned. “Remember how I was late to class Tuesday? You asked why, and I told you about being my… cousin’s guardian now.”

She remembered. She remembered quite well. Despite being quite frazzled at the time, Masuyo had still managed to be distractingly attractive in her somewhat immodestly cut denim dress and rich, purple scarf. Even now, Sabah couldn’t help but note how cute Masuyo looked in her cream blouse with its peter pan collar despite the plain navy apron tied in place over it. Forcefully stopping those thoughts before they could get into dangerous territory, she answered, “Yes, I remember.”

“She’s… Complicated. I mean, I _knew_ she was going to be complicated before I’d even met her, but every interaction has been like tip-toeing through a minefield with a crudely drawn map and no mine detector. There are so many sore points and off-limit topics, and I’ve been stuck trying to figure it out as I go.” She paused for a moment, and Sabah let her gather her thoughts. “She didn’t come home Monday night after her first day at school, and I couldn’t get in touch with her on the phone I gave her either. I tried the police, but they said she had to be missing for twenty-four hours first. I went to her school hoping they might know where she’d went, and she showed up shortly after I did.”

“What had happened?”

“She fed me some cock and bull story about ruining her phone and the paper with our address and my phone number by falling into the bay by accident and that she stayed the night with someone who saw what happened. I was so relieved she hadn’t been attacked by the Empire that I let it slide and hurried off to class. Lo and behold, I get a call from the school because she skipped the last half of the school day. I tried to ease into the topic that night, but we somehow got into a fight over money, and she left for hours before coming back looking like she’d gotten into a street fight. I decided to count my blessings that she’d even come home that time and let it go, and she goes to school the next day, yesterday, and… I don’t see her again until tonight. The school told me she didn’t attend today at all.”

It didn’t escape Sabah’s notice that this mystery cousin didn’t seem to be here _now_. “That’s awful. Is she okay?”

“She seemed okay at first, and I was afraid she’d scare off again if I approached the topic of where she’d been too quickly, so I tried to offer to make her some food, right? Well, she tells me she’s only here to get her stuff because she’s moving out. I tried to explain she can’t just _do that_ , and then this guy comes in, and he’s obviously one of those monster capes. I, um… I freaked out, right? It’s scary enough having a cape just show up in my apartment, but he seemed to be _with_ June, and I thought he might be _mastering_ her.”

So that was the cousin’s name—June. Masuyo had mentioned the guardianship but not a name yet. She eyed the pan on the carpet once more. “So you threatened him with a presumably hot frying pan. What happened then?”

“I was trying to shepherd him out the door and over swung. Before I know it, June’s calling him her ‘teammate’ and is yelling at me for threatening him and calling him a monster. She finished packing her things then dropped that card and left.”

Sabah eyed the business card on the carpet. She stepped over and plucked it up, only to realize it wasn’t actually a business card. It was the shape and size of one, but it only bore a handwritten phone number and the name ‘June,’ which was underlined multiple times. Her gaze moved back to Masuyo, who had remained seated on the couch. “You said you needed to make a call. You’re debating whether to call the PRT… or to call her.”

Masuyo had been right—it might have been best to not get involved. It seemed unlikely the cape had been a master. Sabah didn’t follow the cape scene of Brockton Bay—actively avoided it, point in fact—but she knew enough. If the man had been a master, and Masuyo had threatened him, then he almost certainly would have had June attack her. Or he might have just mastered her as well. It was hard to be certain with powers, but it seemed more _likely_ that he wasn’t a master. No, if Sabah was reading this right, then he was parahuman muscle for a gang. A gang June had in all likelihood _joined_. And now Masuyo was seemingly debating allegiances.

She should leave. She was under no obligation to stay, and it was abundantly clear no economics work was going to get done. It was the smart thing to do. Her business, her hopes and dreams—they could be ruined if she got associated with a gang. Or worse, as a _parahuman_ associated with a gang.

“I have to call the PRT,” Masuyo said, shaking her head. “Social Services too. I just… I can already tell June will freak out. She won’t care that I _have to_ , won’t understand the government will want to know where she is. She’ll see it as a betrayal.”

Sabah stared at the tears starting to carve their way down Masuyo’s face. She should leave. It was the smart thing to do. It was the _right_ thing to do.

She looked down at the card in her hands. “What did the cape with her look like?”

Masuyo seemed caught off guard by the question. “Um. He, um, wore a hoodie with the hood pulled up with jeans. Street clothes. I wouldn’t have known he was a cape if it wasn’t for his skin. I could see through his skin, see his bones and organs.”

Sabah flopped back down onto the couch, feeling heavy. This was beyond stupid, and she _should_ leave, but it was impossible to look at that hurt and not even try to help. She fished around in her bag and pulled out her laptop.

“What are you doing?

“There are lists of known capes and what cities they’re in. I’m hoping we can search the lists of Brockton Bay capes and figure out who this guy is.”

It took several minutes and some creative searching, but eventually Sabah found a promising wiki. “‘Gregor the Snail,’ active in Brockton Bay,” she read before passing her laptop for Masuyo to read. “It doesn’t look there are many good images of him, but could this be the guy who was with June?”

Masuyo clicked on the photo gallery and grimaced. “Yes. This is him.” She read further down. “It says he’s a mercenary?”

“You know as much as I do,” Sabah replied, shrugging helplessly.

Her eyes danced over the screen. “There’s speculation about exactly what he does, but nothing about possibly being a master.”

“Have you considered…”

“That June was with him willingly?” Masuyo finished before running a hand over her face and sighing, the sound bitter and not at all fitting her in Sabah’s opinion. “That’s what I’m afraid of. She has a record from when she lived in New York. Nothing formal, apparently, but Social Services mentioned she associated with known thieves. Questioned several times, but they never charged her with anything. Ever since she moved here, she’s been so focused on money. What if this Gregor character offered to pay her to be canon fodder for some job they’re running?”

“You knew all of that and still took her in?” Sabah asked in surprise.

“I’m all she has!” Masuyo exclaimed. “Riko, she’s… her mom. Was. She overdosed, and the father… is out of the picture. Riko’s parents are dead, and she was an only child. If I hadn’t stepped up, they’d have put her in the system like—” She winced and cut herself off. “I’m her _family_. It’s my job to take care of her, even if June thinks it isn’t.”

What had she been about to say? There were too many possibilities to be sure. “So let’s say you call her. What does that look like? How can you get her to see she shouldn’t associate with a criminal?”

“I don’t know,” she groaned, burying her head in her hands again. “I just don’t know. I don’t think it can be done. Every time I go over it in my head, every scenario, every hypothetical, she always ends up pissed off and stubbornly refusing to come home.”

Sabah forced herself to lay her hand on Masuyo’s. To be comforting. _Only_ comforting. “It sounds to me like you know what you need to do.”

Masuyo’s eyes drifted over to the card still held in Sabah’s other hand. Slowly, almost cautiously, she reached over and took it back. She stared at it for a solid minute, long enough that Sabah had to fight hard to resist the urge to fidget, but eventually she turned to give her a grim smile. “I think I do. Thanks. I’ll text you later about our project, okay?

She nodded, having known there was no way Masuyo would be in the right mindset for school matters tonight. “Sounds good.” She hesitated then added, “I hope everything works out. Let me know, okay?”

The grim smile on her friend’s face shifted into a more natural one. “Okay. I will.”

* * *

“Thank you for your patronage as always, Mrs. Čížek,” Sabah told her last customer for the evening, clasping the skirt of her costume and dipping into a well practiced, graceful curtsy. Had the woman not been a regular at the Dollhouse, Sabah certainly would have flubbed pronouncing the name, but she visited at least once a month like clockwork. It was difficult to not remember.

“The pleasure is all mine, Parian, but I must insist you call me Karla dear,” the older woman replied, clucking with mild disapproval. “There’s no need for such formality.”

A weary smile crossed Sabah’s face, safely hidden behind her porcelain doll face mask. “It is a failing of mine, I’m afraid,” she carefully replied, inclining her head. “I’ll endeavor to do better.” Perhaps there was a better way to handle customers trying to force a personal bond with her, but maintaining her distance had yet to fail. There were too many people in Brockton Bay, both locals and tourists alike, who wanted to get to know the Bay’s lone rogue—to see the ‘real’ side of her. Though it was true she wanted to unmask once she had reached real success, it was safer to keep her distance for now. She doubted the Empire would take kindly to a middle eastern cape operating a shop in the middle of their territory. They already put pressure on her to join, sending by members on occasion. Thankfully, the Protectorate and even New Wave had always been quick to respond.

A few more pleasantries were exchanged, but eventually Sabah politely escorted her to the door, unlocking it long enough to let her out. It was a bit early for most businesses to be closing, even for a Sunday, but Sabah had long since identified Sunday evenings as being nearly dead and shortened the hours to give herself more time to work on specialty commissions. She lowered the metal grate after closing the door behind the older customer, the grate more a formality than actual protection in a world where capes existed, and headed for the stairs in the back of the boutique. She kept stock and excess materials for the store in the basement, and though she did need to get started on a commission Medhall had made for a fundraising auction, she slipped up the stairs to her apartment to change first. Leaving her old, two bed dorm room had been a bit bittersweet, since she had grown to care about her roommate, but the convenience of living where she worked had been good for saving time as well as consolidating expenses.

Her phone pinged as she pulled off her wig of golden curls and mask, but she ignored it for the moment. It pinged again several times in short order, and she huffed with exasperation before hastening to hang up her dress. It pinged yet another time as she padded over to the dresser where she had left her phone to charge, picked it up, and unlocked it. She blinked in surprise when she saw the barrage of messages had come from Masuyo.

[Please call me ASAP]

[No wait, don’t call me. Can you come over?]

[Or should I come to your place?]

[Just remembered I don’t know where you live. Can you come over ASAP??]

Sabah stared at the chain of messages for a moment, debating how to respond. Masuyo coming here wasn’t happening—it would raise questions she wasn’t prepared to answer—but what was so important that she couldn’t discuss it over the phone? She worried her lip for a moment, thinking of the Medhall commission.

[i'll come over. leaving soon. text u when i'm there]

She quickly pulled on some casual clothes then removed her wig cap and the braces for her mask before critically examining her hair. It was a mess, naturally, but Masuyo had made this sound urgent. She ran a brush through her hair a few times to give her long, dark locks some semblance of order, then pulled it all back into a messy bun. It certainly wasn’t the sort of image she wanted to portray, especially to Masuyo, but she suspected her quick arrival would be appreciated more. She retrieved her hooded coat and purse then carefully made her way out to her clunker. A short, albeit frustrating drive later— _C’mon, you hunk of junk, just keep it together one more day, and I swear I’ll take you to the shop tomorrow!_ —she reached Masuyo’s apartment building, turned off the car, and pulled out her phone to send the promised text.

Someone knocked on the window of her car, and she shrieked in surprise. Masuyo was standing by her car window and looking quite sheepish. Sabah twisted the hand crank for her window and gave the girl a baleful glare. “Do you know how many years you just scared off of my life?!”

“Sorry… I just couldn’t stand waiting upstairs. I was pacing so badly I think I might’ve worn a hole in the carpet if I didn’t leave.” She glanced over the rest of the car, which left Sabah abruptly self-conscious. She tried to keep it clean when she had the time, but between classes and running the Dollhouse, it seemed like she always had textbooks, fashion magazines, bolts of cloth, and other assorted bits and bobs floating about the vehicle. Masuyo blessedly didn’t comment on the mess but rather said, “C’mon, we should talk upstairs.”

Sabah nodded and rolled her window back up before following her crush inside. The journey upstairs was so uncomfortably quiet that Sabah wasn’t quite sure how she managed to avoid squirming or start forcing awkward small talk. Masuyo was wearing scrubs, and it was the first time Sabah had seen her in them. The look fit her, like she really belonged in the medical world. Eventually they reached their destination, and Masuyo beckoned Sabah in after unlocking the door leading into the apartment. Sabah examined the kitchenette and living room from the entryway and was pleased to note a distinct lack of burned, wet meat in the sink and pots and pans in odd locations. Masuyo’s laptop laid open on the couch, though it looked like it was locked. The sound of the deadbolt sliding into place behind her drew Sabah’s attention back towards the door. Masuyo was slumped against it and staring unseeing at the floor with visible nervousness.

Sabah quietly gulped. “So. Um. What did you want to talk about?”

Masuyo jumped. “Oh. Sorry, I’m just trying to find the right words, you know?”

“Is there… anything I can do to help?”

“Well, yes, I’m hoping so. That’s, um, why I asked you to come over.” She took a deep breath. “How do you… talk to someone you love about finding out they’re a cape?”

Sabah stared at her and, her voice dull with shock, replied, “What?”

Masuyo fidgeted, wringing her hands together a bit. “Right? That’s what I mean. There’s no good way to talk about it.”

Sabah was starting to sweat. _She didn’t…? How could she have found out?!_ “Why… why are you asking me this?”

“Well, I mean…” Masuyo finally _looked_ at her for the first time since she’d knocked on the window in the parking lot. She clearly struggled with words for a second, shrugged, then said, “It’s sort of… obvious? It wasn’t that hard for me to put the clues together.”

Sabah slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. _She knows_.

“Sabah?”

_I tried so hard to keep it a secret. Was I really that easy to figure out?_

Masuyo was kneeling beside her, worry etched on her face. “Sabah?! Oh god, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

 _Wait…_ ‘ _Someone you love?’_ Sabah’s cheeks began to flush as that part of what she had said finally began to sink in.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Masuyo repeated, sounding defeated as she fell backwards from where she was kneeling and flopped into a sitting position. “I… I thought you _knew_ , after… God, I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I?”

“Did… Did you mean it?” Sabah whispered, simultaneously terrified and elated by what all this meant.

“Um… Yes?” The look of confusion crossing her face was painfully cute.

Sabah had several crushes growing up, but she had never worked up the courage to do anything about them. Not here, not in this city. She had tried dating boys a couple of times in high school, trying to feel something from them— _anything_ from them. But they had never, ever felt the way she did when she looked at Brittney in math class. The way she did when she looked at Latonya in gym.

The way she did when she looked at Masuyo.

_Is this real? I really don’t need to hide any more?_

Masuyo leaned forward, obviously concerned. “Sabah…?”

_Let it go._

“I like you too,” Sabah finally admitted, putting voice to her feelings for the first time as she reached up to cup Masuyo’s face and gently pulled her forward into a kiss.

For a brief, glorious moment, everything was finally right in the world. Then she realized Masuyo wasn’t kissing her back, and she broke it off. “Masuyo?”

The other girl was staring at her like she had never seen her before. “Sabah… What?”

It hit her like a ton of bricks. _She wasn’t talking about me_. “I’m so sorry. I’m… I need to go.”

Masuyo was still half leaning over her, and when she tried to push past and climb to her feet, her friend stubbornly remained in the way. “Please talk to me, Sabah.”

Sabah started to tremble. She had always hated confrontation. As a little girl, her parents had always thought of her as a ‘sensitive child,’ and though she had managed to get better with the minor, day-to-day stuff, she still struggled to stay calm when faced with any substantial conflict as an adult. It was the reason why she had never come out, and it was one of the reasons why she pushed back ‘coming out’ as a middle eastern cape until far off into the future. “Please.” Her voice cracked on that word, and it took everything she had in her to not break down on the spot. “I want to leave.”

Masuyo flinched and pulled back. Sabah unsteadily climbed to her feet and moved to the door. Her hand gripped the doorknob like it was a lifeline and started to turn.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before.”

She froze halfway through turning the knob. She knew she should leave, that she was only going to get hurt more. But there hadn’t been the expected hate or disgust in those words, and she couldn’t help the tiny flicker of hope that made in her heart. She chanced a look over her shoulder and saw Masuyo was still sitting on the ground. Her eyes were wide, and her hand was hovering in front of her face, her fingertips ghosting over her lips like she wasn’t sure if what had just happened was real.

“I’m, um… I don’t know what to say.”

She looked up and met Sabah’s gaze. It was hard to read her expression with all the emotions warring for dominance on her face. Confusion. Distress. Wonder. Worry was the most prevalent, and in recognizing that emotion, Sabah also recognized whom it was for. She let go of the doorknob. “It’s your cousin, right?”

Masuyo winced and looked away, the worry finally overcoming the rest of the emotions and reigning supreme. “That mercenary, Gregor the Snail… The team he’s on doesn’t use unpowered henchmen. They attacked an armored truck today in Providence, and there were two new capes with them.”

“And she was one of them? You’re sure?”

“There was a video uploaded. I wouldn’t have recognized her in costume, but her voice… It was a bit distorted, but the way she spoke, her hair, her body shape… It was her.”

What would she think, if she found out her cousin was a cape? Her mother, her aunt? But no, that wasn’t the space Masuyo was coming from. What if one of them had found out she was a cape, that she was Parian? _That_ was the feeling Masuyo wanted to understand. She remembered all too well how disappointed her mother had been when she had left behind engineering for fashion, chasing after that feeling of control over her own life. She had tried to convince her it was a mistake, that Sabah was choosing the wrong path. And maybe it was, truth be told. Making the switch, she had felt a breath of new life and passion enter her life, but recently she had begun to feel like the world of fashion might not be the right path either. But even if fashion was wrong for her in the end, that didn’t mean engineering had been _right_. She would never regret leaving _him_ and his attempts to control her behind.

“It’s about control.”

“Control?” Masuyo asked.

“You’re afraid she’s on the wrong path, that she’s going to get hurt. If not now, then in the future.”

“Of course I am! Wouldn’t you be?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter. ‘Every scenario.’ That’s what you said, right? Every scenario where you called her, you saw her refusing to come home. It’s because you’re trying to control her, to steer her towards what you see as the right path.”

“She’s fifteen! And even if she was an adult, joining _mercenaries_ is a terrible idea!”

“Probably,” Sabah allowed, “but that’s not what you asked, and that’s not what matters. You wanted to know how to talk to her about it. What you were really asking was, ‘How do I convince her to not do this,’ and that’s exactly how you _shouldn’t_ talk to her. Because from what you’ve told me, she’s not going to listen to you, not when all she sees is you trying to dictate what she can and can’t do. It doesn’t _matter_ to her whether it’s what’s best for her.” She tentatively stepped back over to Masuyo and sat down on the floor once more. “She’s bound and determined to live her own life, so let her, but be there for her. If… _when_ she falls, you’ll be ready to help. And _maybe_ then she’ll accept it.”

“You’re… You’re talking about a hell of a leap of faith.” 

Her eyes fell to the floor. “They don’t always work out.”

Masuyo shifted into her line of sight, and Sabah felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. “Maybe… They can sometimes?”

She leaned into the nook of the taller girl’s neck. _Maybe. Let’s see where this path goes._

The moment was interrupted when Masuyo’s phone dinged, drawing her attention. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she adjusted her position to fish around in the pocket of her scrubs for the device. “Gotta check that. I’m keeping an eye on the thread about J—Oh geez, I guess I should use her cape name? What was it again? Oh, it looks like another… video…”

A look of dawning horror crossed Masuyo’s face as she trailed off, prompting Sabah to worriedly ask, “Masuyo? What’s wrong?”

Wordlessly, Masuyo tapped the phone screen to start the video, and Sabah glanced at the title. _‘New cape Meteor gets fucked up by Boudicca’?! Oh god…_

Together they watched the short video in deadly silence, and the moment it was finished, Masuyo immediately pulled up the dialer app. Only two listings were in the speed dial: Sabah and June. Masuyo tapped the latter while scrambling to her feet and grabbing the keys she had abandoned on the kitchen counter. She abruptly turned towards Sabah, her eyes unsure.

“Go do what you need to do,” Sabah said as gently as she could. She forced her hands to not shake after watching the violence in that video. “I’ll be… be _here_ if you need me.”

Masuyo’s expression shifted. She wasn’t smiling, there was no way she could be smiling at a time like this, but there was something about her gaze that still conveyed she was pleased. “You’re the best. We’ll talk later about… um, us. That’s a _promise_.”

Sabah smiled. It was a soft, somewhat wary thing, but she couldn’t help it all the same. Masuyo groaned when she got the voicemail again, hung up, then immediately redialed while running out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 12/29/20: Fixed the page orientation of the text messages.  
> Edit 02/07/21: Edited out an accidental spoiler that was just pointed out to me. Whoops!


	13. Forge 2.5

“Is everyone ready?” Faultline asked as she strode into the lounge where the rest of us were waiting in our costumes. One of Faultline’s shell companies owned this building, an abandoned mechanic gas station combo that housed an unmarked van the team used for local jobs. The perfect location to suit up and more discreetly leave town.

We all affirmed in turn that we were good to go, spare Labyrinth. Today wasn’t a good day, which was good for the mission if not her, and Aisha— _Shade, we’re in costume_ , I reminded myself—and I had been entrusted with helping her suit up in her simple mask and dark green robe, which had a maze overlaid on it. Gregor and Newter weren’t really in costume, per se, but that’s because they’re costumes were essentially casual clothes. Gregor was wearing jeans and stocky boots with no shirt, leaving the entirety of his upper body free to expel his unique bodily fluids. Newter was likewise wearing jeans and no shirt, but he also wasn’t wearing shoes, exposing his unique, gecko-like feet.

“Meteor, Shade, there aren’t any problems with your costumes?”

“All good here,” Shade remarked with a smirk as her form twisted into shadows before growing until she was Gregor’s size. The plain black, long-sleeved spandex unitard she was wearing had been obviously a couple sizes too big on her normal frame, which gave it room to accommodate Gregor’s large frame. It was weird seeing his body stuffed into the outfit, and his shells made the unitard look lumpy. Newter’s thoughts seemed to be in the same vein, if his barely repressed chuckles were any indication. The outfit was paired with a plain black domino mask, rounding off the very last minute costume. Needless to say, we would have to put together something better later.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I assured her, channeling my professionalism. It was one thing to joke around with the team when we were off the clock or even training, but the moment we had arrived here, we were on the job in my eyes. It was all the more important with this being my first job with the crew and my springing the whole Shade situation on them last night. Needless to say, Faultline had been less than thrilled, but even she had to admit, begrudgingly though she did so, that having a power copier on the team was a serious boon. Shade had apparently been a cape for a couple of months using her powers for small-time thievery, and that meant she had a decent grasp of how her powers worked already. The way she explained it was she could ‘store’ a few people within her at a time, and she did that by being near them, by talking to them, by making eye contact with them, or some combination of the three. The more of a ‘connection’ she made, the better the stored copy of them was and the longer it lasted. That included their appearance, their skills, and even their powers. The only caveats were the change into the other person was obvious, using powers seemed to be a bigger drain on her stores, and once she became someone, they were tapped—she either used all of her stored copy of them then or otherwise forfeited the rest of it. Even with those limitations, it was a ton of flexibility.

She eyed me for a moment longer before nodding. She looked over us as a group once more. “We will be reviewing everyone’s roles while we make the drive. If you have any last minute questions, then we will address them after. Let’s go.”

The six of us made our way into the old mechanic bay where the van was waiting, gassed up and ready to go.

“Shotgun!”

No amount of professionalism could stop me from snorting at Shade’s outburst.

“No,” Faultline intoned without missing a beat.

“Aw, c’mon, boss!”

“Exactly,” Newter interjected, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Gregor’s driving, and she’s the _boss_. That means she gets shotgun.”

“Well I wanna sit in the back then,” she argued as he opened the side panel. Labyrinth, Shade, and I stood back far enough to avoid any accidental exposure to his skin.

“Nope, that’s my seat,” he replied as he leapt inside and lounged across the entirety of the back seat.

“Ladies first, I see,” I couldn’t help but quip. “Such a gentleman.”

Shade stepped up to the side panel and gestured floridly at the opening before joking, “Fret not, ladies. I can be any gentleman you desire.”

I snorted and helped Labyrinth step up into the van. “My hero. Just don’t turn into Newter. You’d probably knock yourself out when you changed back.”

“Hey, give a girl some credit. I know what I’m doing here.”

“I thought you were a ‘gentleman,’ right now?” Newter drawled from the backseat while I climbed in after Labyrinth and settled into the middle seat.

“I’m a person of many talents,” Shade retorted as she climbed in and took the seat next to me.

“Labyrinth, buckle up,” I said, leaning forward to watch and make sure the distracted girl mechanically completed the task. Once she was done, I buckled up myself, a task made easier by my backpack, hip mounted cases, and shield for my costume being on the floor on Labyrinth’s left.

At Faultline’s suggestion, we had elected to design my costume and plan my tools around the idea of a tinker whose specialty was magnetism in the hopes that, were I ever deprived of my tools, an enemy would make the mistake of thinking I was unarmed. The backpack, hip cases, and shield were all designed to look tinker-made, especially the shield, which I would use as a pseudo-hoverboard. The backpack did not contain my usual coins but rather tens of thousands of tiny ball bearings, and the hip cases contained caltrops and small metal spheres, half of which contained minor explosive powder and half of which contained powderized pepper spray. Still strapped on my body instead of up with the other tools, I also wore a bandolier of very sharp knives. Beyond the tools, my costume consisted of a metallic silver vest and skirt combo layered over a black bodysuit with segmented black metal wrapped around most of my limbs that doubled as my actual means of flight as well as protection against fists and knives. Under that I wore some minor padding to give the illusion of curves in the right places because I would be _damned_ if I let PHO think for a goddamn second that I wasn’t a girl. For my face, I had silver tinted, single-frame goggles and a filter mask for under my scarf that would prevent me from choking on something like Oni Lee’s ash again and, as an added bonus, would distorted my voice somewhat. My high laced combat boots were spray painted a metallic silver, though I had unfortunately done a shoddy job of it. Arts and crafts weren’t really my thing. Thankfully the black, fingerless gloves looked good with their silver tinkeresque accents that, when combined with various hand movements, would contribute to the illusion that I was controlling my tools through magnetism.

My shitty boots aside, I thought my costume was pretty badass. With it on, I really felt like _Meteor_ instead of June Fujiwara.

Gregor actually did a full inspection of the van, checking the air pressure of the tires, the oil level, and so on, and Shade and I shared a ‘really?’ look with each other. Newter seemed to recognize the unspoken gesture, since he leaned forward with a grin and whispered, “He does this _every_ time.”

The only other guy on the team finally slipped into the driver’s seat a minute later. “Everyone has on their seat buckles?”

Shade and I groaned, and Newter jokingly replied, “Yes, father. Safety comes first!” Unphased by the comment, Gregor started up the car and pressed the remote to open the bay door. For the first time in weeks, I would be leaving the Bay, and by the time I came back, my first job as Meteor would either be a success or a failure.

It was time to show the world who I was.

* * *

“I see the convoy,” I announced over our comms when the armored truck turned a corner and entered viewing distance of the binoculars I had borrowed from Faultline.

“Copy that, Meteor,” Faultline replied. “Do you see any heroes or accompanying vehicles?”

“No obvious vehicles or people that I can see,” I confirmed, “but there’s a decent amount of traffic around them. Hard to say. Too far out for my power still.”

Though Faultline had deemed it too hazardous to assault the truck once it was _on_ the highway, the location she had elected to assault it was an area by the bridge just before where it would have been getting onto I-95. There was a gas station directly next to the road where the van could wait without attracting attention, and there was a billboard nearby where I could keep watch while maintaining cover from anybody watching for anything amiss on the route. Beyond that though… there frankly wasn’t much in the area. I had been surprised by how small Brockton Bay seemed when compared to Brooklyn, but Providence was even smaller than that. It was a capital city, but when your state was as small as Rhode Island was, then so too was your capital it seemed. That meant I would be limited for the most part to the metal I had on hand, since Faultline wanted me to avoid using any cars and to especially avoid using any infrastructure. I had leave to use the former if necessary and the latter only if it would otherwise mean the death of someone, but otherwise the goal was to not cause much property damage. It was a balance, supposedly, that mercenaries aimed to strike.

Fortunately, we had an advantage. We had arrived much, much earlier that morning to give Labyrinth’s power time to establish itself in the area. Based off Labyrinth’s current lucidity and experience from earlier jobs, Faultline had made a conservative estimate the girl had control over roughly half a block. Even if that was still an overestimate, that would be significant control of the immediate battlefield—hopefully our early arrival would pay dividends.

“Hey, if I find Rubicon driving a car, do you think it’d be the _Rubicar_?”I joked. A snort of laughter from Aisha and a groan of exasperation from Newter carried through the open comms system, and I grinned.

“Switching the comms over to tap to talk. Use only as necessary.” Well fine, I see my jokes are appreciated here. A straight-laced professional I shall be. “Meteor, damage the drive shaft of the convoy to stop it as planned. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

I tapped my ear piece. “Roger, Boss.”

I kept my eyes peeled but nothing else stood out until the convoy finally crossed into my range. “ I can feel the convoy,” I reported. “Feels like there are six people in the back. Two of them are wearing what feel an awful lot like a scuba mask and metal wings, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the armor I feel on the one is Boudicca.” _With one of them being Canary, that leaves two more. Who were they?_

“Dammit, of course they’re in the convoy,” Faultline replied. “Verify whether you can grab the whole vehicle.”

“Not happening,” I confirmed. I didn’t even need to try—I could feel how heavy it was. “Way too heavy.”

“Can you isolate and extract Mcabee safely?”

“Doubtful. Two of them are right next to her, so I’d risk hurting her.”

“Then we stick to the original plan. Meteor, rip out the drive shaft once the convoy is by the gas station. Account for sliding. Get ready for combat.”

Despite my practice with the rest of the team, I felt my blood start to rush. I had only been in two cape fights outside of practice, and they had both been tight. I was anxious, but a part of me was looking forward to it. I wanted to prove I didn’t need luck to win. By the time the convoy approached the gas station and I ripped out the drive shaft, my heart was pounding in my chest. The resulting sound was horrendous even up here in the billboard. I couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like _in_ the convoy.

I didn’t have time to wonder, since the doors of the convoy burst open and a man in red rushed out at speed. The figure paused for a brief moment, the patch of fire on the ground behind him fizzled, then he was moving again. I hadn’t needed to see the fire to know who he was—the metal wings I felt on his boots were the give away. Newter, Gregor, and Faultline started running for the convoy, and Rubicon ran a large loop around the convoy in a few moments, bringing traffic to a grinding halt. Some of the drivers tried to turn and flee over the grass median, but I paid them no mind as I turned my attention on the speedster. Now that there was no danger of him being hit by a car, I happily tugged on his boots and sent him tumbling to the ground. The ring of fire fizzled out, and the guards in the front compartment tried to exit the vehicle, so I fused the doors with the body of the car to slow them down. To their credit, the surprisingly whole windshield fell forward seconds later. A quick release mechanism, since it was bulletproof? I hadn’t realized that might happen and hadn’t been watching for it.

“The windshield!” I said over the comms while I yanked away their weapons and tugged them back into the vehicle by their fortuitously steel toed boots. Gregor caught my warning and tossed a large glob that splashed over the hood on impact. I didn’t see an immediate effect but trusted he had delayed them if not disabled them outright. Someone had tugged the van’s rear doors closed again, so I said, “Opening the doors,” into the comms then forced them open once more.

A wave of water shot out of the opening, though I would not have known if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I couldn’t hear the water at all. Was that where the reports of a silence effect came from? Or did the wave strike victims silent as well? Scuba dude jumped out after it into a roll and run, and yes, I knew what his cape name was, and no, I refused to call him it. It was _stupid_. A riptide is a strong current, _not_ a wave AKA his whole shtick. _Stupid_ , right? Gregor sent a glob of something flying at him, but scuba dude intercepted it with another wave, forcing Gregor and Faultline to dodge one way and Newter to dodge the other way. Rubicon dashed towards Newter, and despite my teammate’s quick reflexes, the hero easily kept pace, forcing Newter to dodge and weave jumps in between spots of fire.

Trusting Gregor and Faultline to handle themselves for the moment, I yanked Rubicon’s feet out from under him again and sent some of my balls— _Oh,_ ew _, gross! Never again!_ —my _orbs_ flying down towards him. Newter leapt to take advantage of the opening, but Rubicon recovered much quicker this time, likely having expected it. I started to reach for the wings again, but my attention was quickly diverted away from Rubicon by a _different_ red blur that shot out of the back of the truck. The mystery person? Whoever it was, they noticed the ball bearings still on their way from the billboard towards Newter and Rubicon, correctly intuited somebody was up here, and started dashing my way. I redirected my orbs to intercept, and the mystery cape jumped into the air and met the mass of metal halfway only to somehow hook around it and shove off towards me. The movement forward of my orbs strangely seemed to stutter for a moment before I regained control. What had just happened?

I jumped onto my shield and shot up into the air to put distance between us, and he alighted on the spot where I had been just a few moments prior. He wore all red body armor of some kind, and his mask consisted only of a red visor that revealed somewhat spiky blond hair. The only metal I could feel on his person were components of his visor, which I didn’t dare to fuck with, Faultline’s warnings about the rules in mind. “Well hey there, you’re a new face!” he called out, his jaunty tone disarming. “What’s your name?”

I stared incredulously at him. “You’re, um, not going to keep attacking?”

“Depends on whether you’re going to keep trying to free a criminal. Also, I’m not hearing a naaame.”

 _Oh lord._ “I’m Meteor, and yes, that _is_ what we’re being paid to do.”

“Meteor, huh? Nifty. I’m Assault. Pleased to meet you. I’m afraid I’m obligated to prevent any would-be breakouts of jailbirds, so would you mind terribly sitting this one out?”

 _‘Jailbirds,’ huh?_ I thought. _Did he mean to make a pun?_

“Labyrinth, Meteor, I need backup!” I heard Faultline furtively say into the comms.

I flicked my eyes over to the fight on the ground, kicking myself internally for losing focus. As expected from what I had felt in the back of the truck, Boudicca was here in her leather and metal armored costume, and she was rushing at speed towards Faultline. I yanked her sideways by her armor on instinct and only belatedly remembered to make a sweeping gesture with my hand. I noticed the ground was trying to rise up around Boudicca, but I had to bring my attention back to Assault when he started to bounce back and forth between the two sides of the double-sided billboard below me. I flew away before he could get his hands on me, and said into the comms, “I’ve got some guy named Assault over here. Mind sharing crib notes on his powers?”

“Kinetic energy manipulation,” Faultline replied before apparently remembering who she was talking to and adding, “He can redirect and reuse the force of being hit. Best you can do is try to trap him.”

“You know, it’s rude when you fliers just up and fly off like that. We were totally in the middle of talking!”

If Assault’s power was reusing force, then I could maybe see how he bounced between the two sides of the billboard, but how had he made the huge jump to get up here in the first place? Back by the truck, Boudicca was already breaking free from the stone cage Labyrinth tried to trap her in. Her offense had to already be boosted, which explained her speed from earlier as well.

Oh. _Oh_. They had boosted each other in the truck. Clever! I needed to keep them separate until I could stop Assault. I flicked my wrists while letting more orbs rush out of my bag then directed them with a gesture to flow towards the truck before sweeping back towards him. He didn’t miss a beat, already jumping to and fro amongst the swarm before launching towards me. Each spot where he touched my orbs, I felt their movement stutter before resuming. Presumably that meant he was stealing their ‘energy’ or whatever, but at least I had shepherded him somewhat away from my teammates and the other heroes. Still, I couldn’t afford to keep giving him more steam, so I would need to try something else.

I dodged him while preparing for him to change course midair, but to my surprise he kept falling to the ground. So he couldn’t _really_ fly—probably why he had poked fun at flying capes earlier. He just… bounced insanely well. I sent my orbs to intercept where I expected him to spring off of the ground, but instead of rebounding into the air at a matching angle, he actually took off into a sprint at a blistering pace the moment his feet touched land again. Dodging my orbs, he reversed course and started towards the truck. “It’s been nice chatting, Meteor, but I’ve gotta bounce. I’m sure we’ll catch up soon.”

The puns were definitely intentional. “Assault incoming,” I announced over the comms as I raced to follow. Unfortunately there was no way my orbs or I would make it in time, not at the speed he was moving, so I grit my teeth and started searching for an appropriate source of metal.

Faultline glanced over, and Shade, who had apparently joined the fray and seemed to be mirroring Boudicca, moved to cover her. “We need to switch this up. Meteor, take over with Rubicon, and Newter, get over her to help with Assault and Boudicca.” Boudicca sent a probing punch towards Shade, who dodged but remained blocking the path to Faultline. Why not take the hit and get stronger? Was she using up too much of her stores replicating Boudicca already?

It was impossible to say, and I had other problems to worry about. I shifted course towards where my orange teammate was engaged with Rubicon some distance away from the truck, the area mostly covered with large swaths of burning ground. I sent the hero tumbling to the ground with a flick of my wrist, and a moment later all of the burning ground vanished. It was disconcerting to see so much fire vanish and leave behind perfectly fine asphalt, grass, and so on, but powers were weird like that.

“Go!” I shouted at him, and he rushed off towards the truck, not needing to be told twice. He was on the comms too, so he had to have heard where Faultline wanted from him. I kept my focus on Rubicon, who was already back on his feet and running circles around the ground I was hovering over. “So, Ruby, can I call you Ruby? Super, thanks. Is running around like a chicken with its head cut off really the only thing you do?”

If he was bothered by my taunt, he didn’t show it. “So the mercs are recruiting normal kids now too?”

Unable to help myself, I cocked my hip and planted a hand there before replying with mock indignation, “I’m just ‘normal,’ huh? You sure know how to treat a lady.”

“W-Wait, what? I didn’t—” he started to defend before being cut off by me gesturing up and lifting him into the air by his ankles. He let out a startled yelp, but I was already surrounding him in a cocoon of my orbs.

Unfortunately my concentration lapsed when something slammed into my back and sent flying head over heels. I grunted with pain but forced myself to focus before I fell to the ground entirely. Rubicon was watching me warily while standing still this time, and Assault gave me a jaunty wave from where he was dodging leaps from Newter roughly halfway between here and the truck. Faultline, Shade, and Boudicca were still scuffling beyond.

What the hell had he hit me with? “FYI, _that_ isn’t how you treat a lady either, you jerk!”

“I’ll make it up to you by treating you to dinner later!” he called out to my surprise.

Ignoring him for now, I turned my attention back to Rubicon and found the golden wings on his boots were now laying on the ground. I could just barely make out straps—possibly of leather—from here. “Ooo, homemade costume, huh? Where’d you get the boots, the DSW?” I taunted. Even from here, I could tell he was gritting his teeth to not respond. “I’d love a pair myself. You simply have to tell me where you do your shopping!”

Apparently deciding he was in a bad match-up, he ran off towards where Gregor and scuba dude were still fighting, and I moved to follow albeit at a comparatively slower pace. Faultline had mentioned Rubicon couldn’t run anywhere nearly as fast as Velocity, who was apparently a speedster in the Brockton Bay Protectorate, but he was still a damn sight faster than my measly top speed.

“Incoming, Riptide!” he barked out as he neared the two’s fight. Scuba dude shot off two waves in succession and layered them to create a sort of wider version of his attack, forcing Gregor to do a surprisingly nimble dodge roll to move out of the way in time.

I didn’t want to give the two heroes any chance of double teaming Gregor before I got there, but my orbs weren’t anywhere near close enough. Like Assault, the only real concentration of metal on scuba dude seemed to be his mask, and I didn’t want to chance unmasking him. Faultline had said I should avoid damaging cars, but I _had_ already been given permission to fuck with the drive shaft on the truck… A little more wouldn’t hurt. Probably. With a gesture, I tore the rear doors free and sent one flying on an intercept path for how I expected Rubicon to approach Gregor and the other hurtling straight at scuba dude. Both of them predictably dodged, but I bought Gregor time to right himself and start harassing both capes with his goop. My orbs and I were finally close enough to make a difference, so I directed them to swarm scuba dude. He predictably sent a wave flying at me, but I was far enough away to dodge without issue, and my orbs punched right through without issue unlike Gregor’s attacks. I quickly encased his arms in metal and tugged him up enough that he hung just shy of being completely off the ground. Not wanting to risk losing concentration again and freeing him by mistake, I brought his hands together and fused my orbs just enough that they were one piece before pushing it all into the elsewhere. Thinking I had neutralized him, I started to turn my attention to where Gregor had apparently caught Rubicon by spraying his body fluids at the circling cape instead of hurling them as globs. Scuba dude took advantage of my distraction to kick at the air, generating a wave that crashed into me.

A surge of panic tore through me as I was briefly submerged in the thick, somewhat briny wave. As fleeting as the moment was, the fear hit me hard and lingered, leaving me breathing hard and shivering despite the water not being cold. The heavy breathing was disturbingly completely silent, and that realization made my panic worse. I lashed out at him with more orbs, but in my haze, I didn’t swarm him so much as pelt him with a multitude of ball bearings hurtling at speed. He screamed in pain as several smashed into each of his knee caps, but his cries were cut off as several more hit him in the gut. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I whirled around with a silent shriek to find Gregor waving for me to stop. A few of my orbs hit him before I realized who he was, but I froze the rest. He winced at the blows, but fortunately his unique body structure made him resistant to most impacts. He covered his mouth and tapped his throat—he must still be silenced. Seeing my understanding, he pointed at me and pantomimed the okay symbol— _Are you okay?_

I silently but rapidly shook my head, not sure how to explain the panic without words. I had a feeling I would have had trouble explaining even if I could speak. My throat was thick with emotion, and I was starting to have a bit of trouble breathing. He hesitated, his body language making it clear, then he held his arms wide but slightly angled towards me with a questioning look an his face. He stepped closer once it became apparent I didn’t understand, and something about the approach with his arms held up like that made me realize he was offering to hug me. I don’t know what possessed me to step forward—I probably wasn’t thinking straight right then—but he gently pulled me into him, and I realized I _did_ feel a bit better. Maybe it was because over the past couple weeks he had shown himself time and again to be such a gentle guy? My eyes watered up a bit, and though I wasn’t crying, I still had to push up my goggles to wipe at my eyes and clear my vision.

“You broke my fucking knees!” scuba fuck screamed at us. “You assholes, I might never walk again!”

I winced, and Gregor let me go before rearing up almost protectively. He moved towards the battered cape, and halfway there I began to hear his footsteps once more, only then making me realize just how much scuba fuck’s silence affected. “She has a trauma related to water. I must kindly ask you to stop harassing her.”

“Like I give a shit! What part of ‘I might never walk again’ didn’t you get?”

“It is very regrettable, but perhaps you can request Panacea’s assistance.”

“She doesn’t _do_ requests, you _fat fuck_!”

 _Leave him alone, you douchsicle!_ I tried to snarl at him, only to find I was still unable to speak.

“Riptide,” Rubicon hissed at him from where he was struggling with being stuck to the ground by a sticky green substance. The effect made him look like a fly caught on fly paper. “People are recording.”

My head snapped towards where, unbelievably, some people truly were recording us and the ongoing cape fight. _My first official cape fight as Meteor, and someone records me getting a hug from a teammate. Fucking great._

“Meteor,” Gregor said, bringing my attention back to him. “If you are well now, then we must help the others.”

Channeling his earlier performance, I covered my mouth and tapped my throat, shrugged, then gave him the okay sign. _I’m still silenced, but I’m okay_.

He gestured at scuba dicksickle and asked, “Elsewhere?” At my nod, he said, “Very well. Let’s go.”

Truth be told, I still felt pretty off, but time was of the essence—unwinding would have to wait. I still had plenty of orbs left, and I brought them to me while Gregor and I moved to the other fight. It wasn’t going as well as I would have expected when it was four versus two. Shade and Newter were still on their feet and fighting, but both of them were looking worn out. Faultline had retreated somewhat and taken a knee, her costume visibly damaged. The cloth had been torn in a number of locations, her breastplate seemed somewhat warped, and her fake ponytail—the hairpiece with its hidden spikes was quite possibly the strangest part of her outfit—was missing. All three of them and even the two heroes had glowing blue rings around their necks that had what looked like X’s of varying amounts on the line. Strangely, Assault seemed to have more of the X’s than I could count, and he and Boudicca looked to be in great shape and were moving blindingly quickly with brief periods of normal speed from Boudicca. No, not strangely—it made sense once I remembered she was providing him energy by punching him. Each of her punches had to be giving Assault overwhelming power now. The battlefield itself was twisting and warping all over the place from Labyrinth’s power, and it seemed like that was the only thing keeping the heroes from crushing my teammates.

“Good, you took care of them,” Faultline said into the comms, breathing somewhat heavily. She had been making me do morning jogs with her ever since that first practice session in the warehouse, and she had a ton of endurance. That she was even remotely winded spoke volumes of how rough it must have been keeping up with the boosted heroes. “Gregor, get over here and try to help slow them down. Meteor, we’ll hold them off while you get Canary to the van. Be prepared to fly the van and extract all of us.”

“Understood,” Gregor replied, while I gave a overly emphatic salute, hoping she was looking this way.

I quickly flew over to the truck and hovered by the open gap in the back where I had torn away the doors. I hadn’t forgotten there was still someone in the truck with Canary, but I had been half expecting another hero to be guarding her. Instead I was surprised to find there were _two_ prisoners in the convoy, sitting side by side at the back of the truck. One was Canary without a doubt, her hair a bright banana yellow and interspersed with feathers of yellow and green accenting shades. She was bound and gagged to such an absurd degree that I definitely would have thought she was a brute had I not known better. The other was a redhead who had her hands bound behind her back and was wearing a standard orange jumpsuit but strangely had a high necked shirt on under it, was wearing tall boots and long gloves, and had a dark black, thick blindfold tied in place over her eyes.

“Is someone there?” the mystery woman asked, sounding scared. “Please, help me!”

 _Who are you_? I tried to ask before grimacing. Scuba douchsicle’s power still hadn’t worn off.

“ _Please_ ,” she wailed when I didn’t say anything. “They’ve kept me like this for so long! They won’t even let me _look_ at anything!”

God, really? I couldn’t even imagine. That sounded like torture to me. I couldn’t bring her with—there was no way I was risking the operation on that—but I couldn’t just ignore her either. A quick attempt to talk showed I wouldn’t be able call Faultline to ask her opinion, not while I was still silenced, and we needed to get out of here ASAP. Boudicca’s power paired up way too well with Assault’s, and we were likely going to be overrun soon. With a negligent gesture, I broke the chain connecting Canary’s bindings to the truck, and I wrapped her in orbs from the chest down before lifting her up and out. I bit my lip in indecision for a moment but restrained myself from breaking the other prisoner’s bonds. The team was counting on me to get Canary and get us out of here. I couldn’t take the risk of—

Something smashed into my chest from in front of me, but _nothing was there_.

“Got ya.”

My voice came back just in time for me to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it makes you feel any better, both my partner and my beta reader informed me this cliffhanger is evil. That didn't stop me from posting it, but I have been informed. 
> 
> I wish I had better news about my partner's health, but the scans came back inconclusive, and the next step is direct monitoring of the brain, which has both of us anxious and debating whether we should go through with it or try to explore alternatives...


	14. Forge 2.6

I screamed and scrambled backwards as fear surged through me, driving me to run—to _flee_. Canary fell to the floor of the truck with a thump, but if she had cried in pain, then I couldn’t hear it through the setup muffling her. I fell out the back of the truck but managed to marshal my power to grab myself mid-air before I smashed the back of my head into the pavement. Instinctively I began to reach out to the nearby metal and grab as much as I could, the urge to defend myself overwhelming me. I couldn’t grab it all, the weight making most of it slip between my fingers, but I kept grabbing at it all over and over anyway in a futile effort.

 _No no no!_ I thought, gagging on nothing as memories of choking on salt water invaded my thoughts, fueling my fearful frenzy. _Stop it! Stop it!_

“Meteor?” I heard Faultline say in alarm over the comms. “Are you okay? What’s happened?”

I tried to double tap the comm in my ear but couldn’t manage the necessary coordination with how badly I was shaking. The truck began to breakdown as I inadvertently ripped and tore its components apart at the seams. Canary rolled herself out of the truck as best as she could in her heavy bindings, and the mystery prisoner bent down to pick something up before jumping out as well, her bindings apparently broken by accident in my scramble for metal. As she landed in a crouch, I noticed one of her feet was bare and she was holding one of her boots and a sock.

“Sweet, wasn’t sure you’d actually manage to free me,” she casually remarked with a hint of something sinister in her tone. She began to pull on her sock and boot and idly glanced over her shoulder towards the cape fight. “Would’ve been good for a show, regardless. _Say_ , those guys aren’t looking too hot over there.”

The feeling of choking on water was still constantly washing over me, but at that remark, I looked over at where everyone else had been fighting and blanched when I saw how bloody and beaten everyone was now. They were somehow still on their feet and fighting, but Shade had huge gashes in her makeshift costume revealing freely bleeding wounds, Gregor’s left arm was hanging limp and useless at his side, Newter’s tail had somehow been shorn off altogether leaving him with a stump oozing with red blood, and Faultline’s right arm was bent at a strange angle and had a bone jutting out of her skin. The heroes had bloody patches on their costumes but otherwise seemed to be fine as they continued to fight at full strength.

“Meteor, I repeat, what happened over there?”

 _Nonono! I’ve got to help them!_ I thought in panic as I raced through the air to them.Shade was the closest to me, and now that I was closer, I realized with horror that she was bleeding badly from her throat. “ _Omigod_ , your neck!”

“Huh?” she said while tossing a brief glance towards me but keeping the majority of her focus on Assault, who had paused with a look of consternation. Vaguely remembering you were supposed to put pressure on wounds to stop bleeding, I immediately touched down and reached out to put pressure on the wound.

“No, wait, don’t!” the hero yelled while dashing towards us with suddenly wide eyes and no trace of the jovial cadence and timbre from earlier in his words

It was too late. I touched Shade, and she shrieked and slapped away my hand. All the gashes and blood were gone in an instant, leaving a battered but otherwise whole Shade, who fell backwards onto the pavement as her skin swarmed with shadows and began to warp. “What the fuck?!” she screamed, as her body settled into Gregor’s form, her pupils blown wide.

“Shit,” Assault swore, coming to a halt a few feet away and holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “You’re okay, just don’t—”

Shade and I were both turned our powers on him in an instant, freaking out at his proximity. The barrage of my orbs kept him still long enough for Shade to spray him with some kind of orange liquid that made him scream in pain as his costume and exposed skin began to hiss and bubble. I gasped in horror and felt bile rise up in my throat at the sight. Unbidden thoughts of everyone on the team wailing in agony as they dissolved began to fill my mind, and I fell to my knees as the trembling became too bad to support myself.

“Everyone stand down!” Faultline yelled in the comms. “Gregor, stop that acid now!”

“Don’t touch them!” Boudicca cried out as she sprinted over at normal human speed, seemingly not boosted for the moment. She had a bit of a British accent coloring her words. “They’re being affected by Loki’s power!”

Just as Gregor began to spray Assault with some sort of water that was a vaguely unnatural shade of blue, the prisoner from earlier appeared in Boudicca’s way already in the midst of tapping her hand. “Tag, you’re it, _Boudibitch_.”

As suddenly as it all came, the unnatural fear that had been filling me winked out, leaving me feeling almost hollow. The horror at the damage done to Assault was still there, but the heavy, panicked breathing and choking feeling of drowning vanished and left me feeling a strange combination of drained and jittery. _So this is what Loki really looks like_ , I thought, remembering the name from our briefing. She was a solo villain with known sadistic tendencies with striker, shaker, and stranger ratings. She could make minor visual illusions and, more importantly, was a striker who instilled fear that chained with the power to spread exponentially to no known limit. Only time or her using her power on a new victim would dispel the effect. She was one of the capes Faultline had mentioned we might run into, though so far as we had been aware, Loki was free. None of us had expected she would be _in_ the convoy. At most we had expected we may have to deal with a crowd driven to terror by the cape for shits and giggles.

Boudicca stumbled mid-run but managed to not fall, and she took several wild swings to try and hit Loki, but the swings were at normal human speeds and poorly aimed, so Loki easily dodged while cackling.

“Meteor, get Canary and get to the transport,” Faultline tightly ordered, drawing my attention. “Everyone else retreat there now.”

I hesitated for a second, turning to Shade in worry before remembering the gashes and blood disappearing in front of my eyes. _Illusions. She probably wanted me to touch someone on the team and was banking on me trying to tend to their injuries_ , I thought. I pulled myself straight up into the air and turned my gaze to the remnants of the truck, which were littered around one end of the skidmarks left behind by the truck as it ground to a halt. I easily found the bright yellow of her hair and the orange of her jumpsuit, promptly wrapped her up in spare metal from the truck, and lifted her into the air, eliciting a shriek from her.

“Aw, you’re all leaving?” I looked down and saw Loki was glancing towards the rest of the crew with a dark smirk. “But we’re _just getting started_.”

I hastily formed a barrier using my orbs to block off her line of sight to the rest of the crew. Faultline hadn’t known if Loki needed line of sight for her illusions, and the blindfold she’d been wearing in the convoy may have just been something she tricked me into seeing to feel sorry for her and come closer, but it was worth a shot. Still, I double tapped my ear piece, thankfully no longer held back by shaky hands. “Loki’s got her sights set on you all. Trying to block her sight.”

“Copy that,” came Faultline’s reply as Loki pulled a gun from somewhere and took aim at me. I immediately reached for control over it and frowned when I realized there was no weight there. An illusion then.

Off to the side, Boudicca rushed over to where Assault was still lying in a heap on the ground and demanded, “Punch me, hurry!” He groaned piteously but smacked her on the arm. I winced when I remembered how many marks he had around his neck—easily seven or eight. If that smack counted as a true hit, then the hero was now super charged for offense again. She blurred into motion, proving her power was definitely leaning into offense now, and kicked straight through where Loki’s knee would have been. The blow swept clean through, revealing the Loki we saw was just an illusion, but the image lingered and cackled silently at the effort. 

The illusory Loki began to morph into something else, but I focused on sending my orbs sweeping through the area. I wish I could have set them to bounce around at random to make it harder to dodge between the cracks—I was covering a large, _open_ area—but I couldn’t really multi-task. It was like trying to rub my belly and pat myself on the head at the same time. I could sort of get the orbs to do separate things, but there was an awkwardness to it that hampered the individual efforts. It didn’t help that I was mostly focusing on grabbing Canary, so we could get the hell out of here. Faultline had the right idea—we were being paid to free Canary and get her to Montreal, not to duke it out in the streets. Fortunately for me, Canary hadn’t gotten far with how patently ludicrous her bindings were, and I started to scoop her up.

I felt a metal disk being thrown at me at speed from behind and pushed myself a bit to the side to dodge, but with my attention mostly on Canary, I didn’t account for the fact there may be _more_ to what was thrown at me than just metal. The tire slammed hard into my left shoulder, and I screamed as I felt something pop. The momentum from the tire and my loss of concentration sent me spinning to the ground, and before I could even _think_ about trying to grab hold of the metal pieces hidden in my costume, I was tackled out of the air. I would have screamed again at the feeling of my left arm being jostled and the overwhelming fear from earlier returning, but the air was knocked out of my lungs by my attacker—presumably Boudicca. I felt her arm rear back for a punch before my eyes had begun to catch up, and I tried to hold it back by pulling the metal plating attached to her leather bracer away from me, but the armor caught for only a moment before continuing to plow forward, the leather snapping under the opposing pressures and sending the metal plating rocketing away. Her punch connected with my already abused left arm, and it snapped.

I thought I had screamed before. I was wrong. That wasn’t a scream— _this_ was a scream. I had never broken a bone in my life, and the pain was _excruciating_. Combined with my throat seizing like I was choking on salt water, my conscious mind was being overrun by pure instinct. Boudicca threw me at the ground, eliciting another pained cry when my abused arm hit the paved road, and I started grabbing metal from all over the area and sending it hurtling at her. It _hurt_ , and I wanted it to _stop_. Boudicca froze and stared down at me with a pale face, almost like she was surprised to see me, then a steel rod, perhaps a remnant from the drive shaft, slammed into her back lengthwise and sent her flying away. Someone else released a short, loud yelp from nearby, and all at once the fear left me again, leaving only the agonizing pain behind. I forced myself to lift my head off the ground to look for Loki, and I saw her on the ground and dazed a handful of yards away. A large sheet of metal that had likely once been a portion of the truck’s side paneling laid nearby. She was starting to get up—I had no room to hesitate. I immediately reformed the sheet into a crude cylinder by rolling it length-wise then bashed her over the head with it. She crumpled to the ground instantly, and for a second I worried I had killed her. _Wouldn’t that be just my luck in my first fight under my cape name?_ Thankfully, I could see she was still breathing from that distance.

“Need to trap her again,” Boudicca spoke up from nearby, her words strained. Probably with pain, seeing as I had just clobbered her in the back with a makeshift baseball bat not a minute prior. The hero moved past in a strangely fast lumbering gait. She had hit me and thrown me, and I had also hit her back, so presumably her power had slid back towards baseline but not that far. I tried to keep a wary eye on her as she set about binding the unconscious villain using some zip-ties she pulled out of some hidden area in her costume, but the pain made it difficult, and I had more pressing matters. I turned my attention to Canary, who was looking a bit beat after hitting the pavement hard several times, and I retrieved her for what would hopefully be the last time and brought her over towards me. I tried to lift myself by my costume and gasped at the pain that shot through me like a bullet. There was no way that was happening.

I double tapped my ear with my uninjured arm as I settled Canary down by me and relayed, “Need backup. Too hurt to fly. Loki is down, but Boudicca is still active.”

“Sit tight, Meteor, we’ll be right there.”

“Only place you’re going is a cell,” Boudicca growled. I started in surprise when I realized Boudicca was almost on top of me, apparently having finished up securing Loki and approaching while I was distracted.

My teammates and the van had never left my range, and from the feel of things, the roads were still jammed full from traffic that had ground to a halt in the wake of our fight, but that didn’t stop them. They drove around the other cars and past what I readily identified as a fire hydrant—they must have mounted the curb.

“No thanks,” I quipped, unable to keep the pain from leaking into my voice. “Orange isn’t really my color. Washes out my complexion.”

The van was close enough now that Boudicca noticed it and looked up. I leapt into action—at least metaphorically—and sent an orb from my hip case rocketing towards her face. Her hand damn near blurred as she moved to bat it away, probably expecting it was the same orbs I had been using the rest of the fight. I tore it open, sending the powderized pepper spray flying into her face. Her raised hand blocked some of the cloud, but the majority of it stayed on course. She half growled half yelled and made the regrettable and seemingly instinctual mistake of rubbing at her eyes, which only served to further spread and rub in the chemical. She made a blind rush towards me, and this time I sent my regular orbs slamming into her at speed. Knowing she could heal herself relatively simply, I purposefully didn’t hold back, but that didn’t make hearing her bones shatter any easier. I winced in sympathy as she howled and collapsed while the van screeched to a halt nearby, the doors already flying open as Shade, Gregor, and Faultline rushed over to retrieve me.

“Oh fuck, she got you bad,” Shade said in my voice as they reached me, revealing she had morphed into me. To carry Canary more easily?

“Gregor, take Meteor,” Faultline ordered, wasting no time. “Shade, get Canary. I’ll grab her equipment.”

“I’m sorry, but we’ve little time to be delicate,” Gregor said in obvious regret. “This will hurt.”

“Just do it,” I hissed, trying to psych myself up for it. A futile effort. It hurt—a _lot_ , I cannot stress that enough—but in less than a minute’s time, everyone was in the van and we drove off, leaving the battered heroes and villain behind.

* * *

You know what hurts worse than a shattered, probably dislocated arm? A shattered, probably dislocated arm when the adrenaline finally wears off. I was in _agony_ , and everyone was trying to figure out what to do next. The original plan had been to drive straight up to Montreal and back with detours at the border for me to fly us over the line in an isolated area, hopefully under cover of night. With the way things were now though…

I whimpered as the van went around a curve, the movement making my body move in relation to the shifting forces. I tried valiantly to hold back the tears, but they carved their way down my face in spite of my efforts. Shade was doing her level best to help stabilize me with the arm she had wrapped around my back and holding my side, but there was only so much she could do. Newter had been moved up into the passenger seat so that Faultline could examine my injuries, and Canary had been shoved in the back with my equipment.

Faultline finally finished cutting open the arm of my bodysuit with the scissors from the first aid box and stowed them before retrieving the small flashlight she had been holding still over the injury site using her teeth. The metal inlaid in the body suit tugged down in a new direction now that it hung free, and I winced at the new pain. “This is a very serious injury,” she gravely confirmed. I turned to look, afraid of what I would see, and paled at the gruesome sight. The upper half of my left arm was essentially one giant bruise and hung unnaturally. Now that the black body suit and its inlaid metal plating wasn’t obscuring it, we could now see I had a shard of bone jutting a few inches out of a bloody hole in the back of my arm.

“I’ll make it,” I tried to argue. I probably wasn’t being very persuasive given the underlying whine in my voice.

“Absolutely not,” she disagreed. I could practically feel her glare through her mask. “We can’t go to Montreal with you like this. You need medical attention.”

“How bad is it?” Gregor asked from up front.

“Compound fracture. Bone has punctured the skin. Significant bruising. Only saving grace is the wound’s already begun to clot around the bone.”

“How’s your pain?” Newter asked as he twisted around in his seat, his concern apparent. “Need me to knock you out?”

For the first time since we had met, I was sincerely tempted to take him up on the offer, but Faultline shook her head. “We should wait until we have a plan before making any actions we can’t easily take back. We can’t afford to go straight to a nearby hospital—the PRT will absolutely check there first after Boudicca informs them of the damage she did. Brockton Bay is less than an hour away, but even that might be too obvious a location, given it’s an open secret we’re primarily base out of the Bay. Nevertheless, Newter, reach out to P and have him confirm wait times at the local hospitals.”

‘P’ had to be a reference to Pierce, the lead bouncer at Palanquin. When Newter nodded and pulled out his phone to make the call, Shade spoke up, her words strangely subdued for once, “She’ll take ages to heal that way. I’ve got a better idea.” 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Faultline replied in a dubious tone.

“It would work!” Shade argued, some heat slipping back into her voice. “I’d only need to be around her, like, one or two minutes. Less if I talk to her.”

“You’re not just talking about copying any person’s power, Shade. You’re talking about _Panacea’s_ _power_. There could be serious repercussions if you were caught.”

“So what, you think I’m gonna get _caught_? Oh please. _How_ would anyone catch me? All I need is a convincing disguise and to copy someone on staff. S’long as they know the layout of the hospital and where to find her, I’ll be gucci.”

“Hospital will have badge access doors,” Gregor chimed in from the driver’s seat. “And you would need to copy someone who could reach Panacea but others would be unlikely to remember and also avoid copied person. Your idea is more involved than you believe.

Getting healed now rather than needing to wait weeks or months for my arm to heal _would_ be really nice, I had to admit. I was feeling pretty goddamn shitty, all things said. I was doing my best to stay still and minimize the pain to admittedly still awful levels, but I couldn’t even manage that much. Just driving down the highway with the moderate winds brushing into the van made the van shift just enough to move my arm and magnify the pain, and the same happened if I breathed too hard, which in itself was more likely to happen _because_ I was feeling worse. _Talk about a vicious cycle…_

Shade opened her mouth to retort but stilled when I put my good hand on hers. “Please… It’s okay. Maybe we can figure that out later, but for now, a regular hospital will have to do. We have to get to Montreal.” Her expression was sour and mutinous, but she stayed quiet after that. Nobody else had any ideas other than a hospital, and Newter hung up with Pierce and confirmed the hospitals in the Bay were backed up as usual. Bayside, the most well known hospital in Brockton Bay, was apparently even worse off, since Uber and Leet, two independent villains in the area who were dedicated to video game themed antics, had apparently decided to recreate _Grand Theft Auto_ of all things and injured a bunch of hookers and innocent pedestrians both during their stunt and while fleeing from Armsmaster. I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around how _moronic_ that was. 

Faultline and Gregor began to discuss what hospital to stop at, and I did my best to tune them out. Labyrinth sat silently on the seat next to Faultline, positioned sideways with her full face mask turned just enough to make it apparent she was looking at me. If I hadn’t known her better and that it was a bad day for her, I would have been freaked out by the silent treatment. It was still somewhat unsettling as it was, but I held my tongue. I was in too much pain to temper words right now, and I knew I would regret it the moment I opened my mouth.

I turned my focus on Shade instead. “I’m glad you were here for this. Might’ve been a whole lot worse otherwise.”

She smirked a bit. “You must not’ve looked at your arm, ‘cause girl, that thing is _jacked_.”

I tried to grin, though it probably came out as more of a grimace. “Hell yeah it is. Do you even lift, bro?” That earned me a cackle, and I felt just a tiny bit better. Still pretty fucking shit though.

Newter’s phone rang, and he answered with a, “Yo, P, ‘sup? … Woah, wait, what?” That drew everyone’s attention. “What’s her name?” He twisted around in his seat and looked right at me. “Meteor, what’s your… Ah shit, forgot Canary was in the car. Um. Okay, right—your _relative_. What’re the first and last letters of her name?”

I blinked in confusion. “‘M’ and ‘O’…?”

“Right, thought that was right, but still… She’s at the club. Says she wants to speak with you and make sure you’re going to the hospital?”

“I don’t… What even…?” I stared at him, utterly uncomprehending.

“Sec,” he said, holding up his finger. His eyes drifted to the side as he listened to something Pierce was saying on the other end. “Woah, wait. For _real_?” He shook his head, his expression one of disbelief, then looked back to me. “She’s asking for Meteor.”

“Um… I’m confused. How did she know to go to the club?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked, leaning forward just a bit. “She’s asking for _Meteor_.”

 _Oh_.

“Put the call on hold. _Now_ ,” Faultline hissed at Newter, and he hurried to oblige. “Meteor?”

“I don’t fucking know!” I hissed right back, answering her unspoken question. “I sure as hell didn’t tell her! She saw me with Gregor, but that shouldn’t have been enough!”

“She may have noticed when you used your power that night,” Gregor disagreed from the front seat, the dirty, dirty traitor. “But it was brief. I am unsure if it would have been enough of a hint.”

“You used your power in front of her?” I cringed away from the disappointment in Faultline’s tone.

“She was swinging a frying pan at Gregor. I just… thought if she _overswung_ , then she wouldn’t notice?” I wasn’t _really_ thinking it through at the time, but the excuse sounded reasonable enough.

“We will talk about this,” she replied, the words promising a lecture. “For now, we need to send her away. We’ll work out a plan to keep your identity protected after.”

“Wait, hold up!” Shade butted in, a gleam in her eye as she turned to face me. “Ain’t she a nurse?”

“Um, yeah? Why does that matter?” I responded.

“Does she work at a hospital?”

“Have P call my phone,” Faultline said, her eyes firmly locked on Shade and me. Newter passed on the command, and a few seconds later, her phone rang. She answered on the first ring with, “Put her on the phone.” She waited a moment longer then continued. “Stay quiet, listen closely, do not use real names, and answer only when I ask you a question. Step out of line, and I’m hanging up. Is that understood?” After a brief pause, she put the phone on speaker. “You are on speaker. Meteor can hear you, as can others. Again, do _not_ use real names. Do you work at a hospital?”

There was a brief pause on the other end before Masuyo’s voice carried through, a steely determination there. “Yes.”

“Which one?”

“Bayside.”

“Is Panacea there this evening?”

“She’s there every Sunday.”

“For how much longer?”

“If she sticks to her normal schedule, then for maybe another three hours or so.”

“Would you be able to get someone close to Panacea without suspicion?”

Another pause, but briefer this time. “Possibly, but not likely.”

 _She didn’t even question why?_ I thought in disbelief.

“Reason?”

“Administration keep a few plainclothes security staff nearby just in case. They might know most of the staff by heart or something. I wouldn’t know, I’m not privy to that info.”

“And if the person looked just like someone on staff?”

No pause this time. “Then yes.”

“Can doctors in the ER assign Panacea to particular cases?”

“Yes, but they don’t just ask her to take care of anybody.”

“Speak only when I ask questions. Was that unclear?”

“Not at all. You asked a question, and I answered. I just gave you more info than you asked for, which isn’t against the rules.”

I blinked. _Was this really Masuyo? I hadn’t known her for long, but she had never acted like_ this _before_.

“That’s true,” Faultline drawled, and I could hear the smirk in her voice. “You wish to help?”

“To help you? Absolutely not. To help _her_? One hundred percent.”

_Masuyo…_

“Very well. Then this is what you will do…”

* * *

“She is here,” Gregor quietly announced from the front seat of the parked van.

I nearly groaned with relief. Faultline’s plan didn’t have many steps, but we couldn’t get started until we were actually in the hospital. She kept prescription strength painkillers in the van’s first aid kit, thank god, but they only helped the pain so much. Faultline reached over and slid open the side door revealing Masuyo, mild surprise on her face and her hand poised to knock. This was the first time I had seen her in scrubs, though that really wasn’t so surprising when I stopped to consider just how little time the two of us had spent together. After all, I had moved out within a week of moving in with her and had not seen her since that disastrous last night. Her midnight blue, patternless scrubs were so dark they almost completely blended into the night, and she had with her a hospital issue wheelchair as well as another pair of scrubs that matched her own lying in its seat.

She recovered quickly from her surprise and scooped up the scrubs before tossing them at Faultline. “Here. I brought what you asked for.”

Faultline passed them back to Shade. “Put the blindfold on our guest then get changed.” Shade leaned over the seat towards the back and began to blindfold Canary. Our ‘guest’ was visibly not thrilled she was going to be blindfolded, but she didn’t have much say in the matter.

“Where is… Meteor?” Masuyo asked. Her tone wasn’t quite demanding, but it was just shy of it.

“Hey,” I spoke up, my unease bleeding into my voice. _The hell am I supposed to even say in a situation like this?_ “Um. How’s your Sunday going?”

She leaned forward into the vehicle to see me better, and a sort of constipated expression crossed her face. “It’s been taking one weird turn after another. How was… was caping?”

“Not that this awkward ass conversation isn’t entertaining and all, but can y’all get her outta the van? I ain’t got room enough to change without bumping into her.”

“Help me get her out,” Faultline ordered Masuyo as she rose into a hunched over stance and gave me a hand with getting up off of the shared seat. 

To her credit, Masuyo didn’t bat an eye as she maneuvered the wheelchair into a better position and locked its wheels in place before standing by to help me step down. She sucked in a breath when her eyes landed on the bone jutting out of the back of my arm. She shot a glare at Faultline and hissed, “You didn’t say she was hurt this badly!”

“And if you follow the plan, then she’ll be right as rain in short order.” Once I was sitting in the chair, she helped me push down my scarf and remove the mask underneath, my goggles, and the vest of my costume. There was no way to feasibly take off my black bodysuit, but Faultline had already cut off both sleeves near the shoulder as cleanly as possible, and together with my silver scarf and skirt, I was left oddly dressed but would not be clocked as a cape.

Something in Masuyo’s gaze changed once my face was revealed, and I defensively asked, “What’s with that look?”

“It’s one thing to know it’s you under there, but… it’s something else to actually see it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s me. Ta dah.”

“So is this still what you want, even after this?” she quietly asked while gesturing lamely at my arm.

I frowned and gave her a defiant glare. “You gonna try and stop me?”

Masuyo didn’t respond immediately. Eventually she slowly replied, seemingly choosing her words with care, “No, I won’t stop you. I don’t agree with this _at all_ , but I… I want to be a part of your life, and if this is how I can be, then I’ll take it.”

I stared at her in shock, but eventually my mouth started to work again. “Huh. Then… we’re alright, I guess.”

I swore Masuyo’s eyes widened for a moment, but I blinked and her expression was schooled once more. Fucking arm was probably making me imagine things. Shade—or Aisha now, since she wasn’t in costume any more—stepped out in the scrubs. Faultline turned to her and asked, “You remember the plan?”

“‘Course I do,” Aisha said, waving away her concerns. “O’ ye of little faith.”

“Then get to it. Clock’s ticking.”

Masuyo took hold of the handles of the wheelchair and started moving me towards the elevator of the parking garage, and Aisha followed, humming something that sounded like the Mission Impossible theme under her breath. Actually, scratch that—it was _definitely_ the Mission Impossible theme. I chuckled, and she smirked but otherwise didn’t acknowledge me. Masuyo tossed my friend a look when we reached the elevator but otherwise didn’t comment. Once the elevator arrived and we started to descend to the ground level, Masuyo spoke up. “So. Um, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Nooope,” Aisha drawled, popping the ‘p.’

“I’m Masuyo.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Um… W-Well, I suppose you wouldn’t want to tell me your name. Either of them. What with being unmasked right now.”

“Nah, I’d be chill with it.”

I blinked and tossed Aisha a look, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Masuyo, not knowing Aisha, gave my friend a small smile. “Oh, that’s a surprise. A good one, I mean!” A couple of seconds passed with no one saying anything, and a confused Masuyo asked, “Are you going to tell me your name?”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to the ground floor of the garage. The entrance to Bayside’s emergency room was within sight, just a short jaunt down the way. Masuyo pushed the chair forward, and Aisha followed with a hint of a spring in her step. “Nuh uh.”

“Huh? But you sai—”

“You gotta _guess_ it.”

I snickered before grimacing, the movement having jarred my arm a bit. Still, I couldn’t resist chiming in with, “Lemme guess, it starts with a letter between A and Z and ends in a letter between… hm, could it be between A and Z?”

“Why Junebug, you read my mind!” 

Masuyo coughed, poorly concealing a laugh. “‘Junebug’?” she asked, the smile obvious in her voice.

 _Goddammit._ “Not you too,” I moaned before giving the now cackling Aisha a baleful glare. I needed to stop reacting to it. She was probably just trying to get a rise out of me or something.

We had almost reached the doors by that point, and the blond haired lady smoking a cigarette by the entrance gave Aisha a funny look before rolling her eyes and looking away as she took another drag from the stick. Masuyo kept up a steady pace as the doors slid open, steered around a person on their way out, and started towards the check-in counter. 

“Bathroom?” Aisha asked.

“Down that hallway and on the right,” Masuyo replied, nodding towards a hallway branching off from the waiting room. Aisha broke off that way while once again loudly humming the Mission Impossible theme, and Masuyo brought me up to the counter. 

“Name pl— Masuyo?” the lady sitting behind the desk started to say before glancing up and doing a double take. “What brings you back?” Her eyes trailed down to me and widened. “Oh, and who’s this? My goodness, your arm!”

“Hey, Nancy,” Masuyo greeted the lady. “This is June, my cousin. I think I mentioned her before? We need to get her checked in.”

Nancy frowned. “I remember you mentioning a cousin, but I coulda sworn you mentioned a boy?”

I waved my right hand and gestured at my left arm. “Definitely a girl. Can we get back to the part where I get checked in, so my fucked up arm can get fixed?”

Nancy’s eyebrows shot up, and Masuyo hastily said, “Sorry, Nancy. She’s, um, not exactly feeling well and all.”

“I see… Okay, do you have her ID with you?”

Faultline hadn’t acquired ID for my real name yet, since I hadn’t been willing to part with any more of my advance than I already had, but thankfully she had prepared me on the drive over for the likelihood this question would be asked. “It got lost when I fell into the bay last month,” I said, speaking up before Masuyo tried to bumble her way through some other excuse. “It’s been one thing after another in this shithole city.”

“Quite a mouth on you, kid,” she replied in an unamused tone.

The words were out of my mouth before I could help it. “That’s what she said.”

 _That_ got me a dark look, and Masuyo coughed somewhat loudly before placing her hand on my shoulder. “June, how about I move you over to the waiting area, and I’ll take care of getting you checked in?”

I looked up at her and smirked. “Sounds less entertaining.”

“In other words, it’s perfect,” she replied without missing a beat, turning the chair and pushing me towards the waiting room.

“You’re no fun.”

“Broken bones jutting out of your skin is pretty much the definition of ‘no fun.’”

“ _Exactly_ ,” I argued as she parked me in an empty, out of the way spot and moved around to the front of the chair to look me in the eyes. “All the more reason why I need to double down on the actually fun stuff.”

“I see,” she remarked with a roll of her eyes. “Well good luck with that. I’m going to go finish checking you in.”

She walked past my line of sight, and I took stock of the area. Lots of sick or injured people were scattered around the room along with a smattering of people who didn’t have anything visibly wrong. Visitors or companions, perhaps, but maybe they weren’t suffering overtly. There were no magazines, which confused me because that was the one ubiquitous presence in waiting rooms on TV. Speaking of, there were a couple of wall-mounted TVs in sight, but they were secured behind unsightly cages presumably in place to deter theft. _How many got stolen before they decided to do that?_ I idly wondered. _You’d have to have a pair of legs on you to get away lugging one of those though._ Both TVs in sight were set to the evening news, which was covering the still on-going repair efforts in Barcelona after the attack by Leviathan a few months ago. The newscasters moved on to local news shortly after, so either the Barcelona story hadn’t been that long or else I had only just caught the end of it. It was difficult to say.

My phone buzzed in my left pocket, and I had to contort myself somewhat painfully to pull it out with my right arm. It was an odd feeling. The pain meds didn’t actually make the pain go away, per se. They just made me care less about it.

[goooood, how long does it take to check in?]

I grinned and texted back.

[u just missed the best that’s what she said joke]

[come on, 4 real? deets, junebug]

[lady @ desk said quite a mouth on u kid]

[i've trained you well, padawan]

[wtf is a padawan]

[JUNEBUG NO]

[what]

[dont do this 2 me]

[what???]

[movie night when this shit is done. got it?]

[ok?]

“All checked in,” Masuyo declared as she came back over. She crouched down by my arm and started to examine it before whispering, “So what’s next?”

Was she trying to be subtle by making it look like she was just taking care of me? Or was she actually doing the latter and accidentally stumbling into the former? I sent one more text, [ready], before locking the phone and slipping it back into my pocket. The right one this time. The _right_ right one. God, these pain meds were even making me think weird too. I think. If this was what Mom had always felt like strung out on drugs on the couch, then I definitely didn’t see the appeal of taking them when my bones were still _inside_ my body. “Is doctor whatshisface still on duty?”

Masuyo blinked. “If you mean Doctor Saltzman, then yes.”

“Yeah, doctor whatshisface.” She laughed a bit at that, the sound equal parts anxiety, hysteria, and actual humor.

Aisha strolled up and tapped Masuyo on the shoulder, drawing her attention. “Yo, ready to show me the ropes?” she asked, a smirk on her face. “I’ve been sooo looking forward to meeting Doc Saltguy.”

“At least that’s closer than ‘doctor whatshisface,’” Masusyo said with a roll of her eyes. “So who am I introducing you as?”

“Nurse May, the new intern. Doc Pepperman saved me as a little girl, and I’ve aaalwaaays dreamed of being a nurse since that day!”

I snorted, and Masuyo groaned. “Right,” my cousin replied. “However could I forget? Well let’s go, ‘May.’”

The two of them left, and I sighed. I glanced at the TV, which was currently in the middle of an advertisement for a prostate medication. _Can we say, ‘Ew’?_ I pulled back out my phone and started to pull up PHO to check what had been posted about our job in Providence, but someone walked into my periphery and in a familiar voice said, “Fancy seeing you here, Jake.”

My head snapped up to meet Tammi’s smirking visage, and I scowled. “Not my name, fuckface. You really wanna fight here of all places?”

“Certainly not,” she replied as she took a seat in the empty chair to my left, crossing her legs and twisting slightly towards me. The smugness of her expression remained firmly in place. “Only a barbarian would do such a thing. But then, I suppose that _would_ be fitting for you.”

“The fuck do you want?” I hissed at her.

“Can’t I just be passing by and happen to see you?”

“Bullshit.”

“Such rudeness, Jake,” she declared, a hand to her chest and faux shock displayed on her features. “See? Barbarism is _quite_ fitting for you.”

I grit my teeth. “You really think I’m gonna buy that you just happened to ‘be passing by’? I’m calling _bullshit_ , Tammi. How did you know I’d be here?”

“Let’s just say a little birdie told me a hero put the beatdown on you in Providence.” She eyed the bone jutting out of my arm, and her smirk widened. “I’ll admit we didn’t know for sure you’d come _here_ , but…”

 _‘We,’ huh?_ “So you had your nazi buddies keep an eye out, then flew over the moment you got the call. Which brings us back to _what the fuck do you want_?”

“Do you know about the unwritten rules, Jake?”

“My name is _June_. And yeah, Faultline told me about them. What’s your point?”

“My point,” she said, leaning in and dropping her voice to a whisper, “is _Meteor_ is now open season. I’m looking forward to breaking your other arm to match.”

“You can try,” I snarled, “but remember who got beaten to a pulp and left to rot last time.”

She laughed, the act obviously fake and lacking emotion. “The question is, will I even get the chance with you stuck in prison?”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

The faint sound of sirens reached my ear and began to grow louder. “The PRT received an anonymous tip the capes who attacked the prison transport in Providence are seeking medical care here.”

I stared at her with wide eyes. “You— but the rules!”

“I didn’t tell them who you are,” she remarked as she rose to her feet. “But then, I’m sure they can put two and two together when they search the area. Catch you later, bitch.”\

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh haaai, Rune. Fancy seeing you here. What's that, you say? Moar action? Don't mind if I do!
> 
> We're approaching the end of the arc Unless something really drastic shifts in how I'm finishing up these last scenes with June, we should only have 2.7 left before the interlude, and 2.7 is gonna be probably one of the longer (if not the longest) chapters yet. At that point, I'll see where things lie, but I will probably take a week to work on Arc 3 before I start releasing it. 
> 
> My partner's monitoring procedure is tentatively scheduled for the 1st, so that's a thing coming up too. Several of you have given us well wishes, and I cannot tell you how much that means to us both!
> 
> Edit 12/29/20: Fixed the page orientation of the text messages.


	15. Forge 2.7

My heart began to pound in my chest as I scrambled to grab my phone back out. I hit the speed dial for Faultline, and I started to swear under my breath after the second ring. _C’mon, c’mon… Pick up!_

The ringing stopped, and Faultline’s voice filled the line, “The PRT are here.”

“I know,” I whispered. “Rune just approached me out of costume and implied she left an anonymous tip we’re here.”

“Fuck,” she swore, some anxiety bleeding into her normally collected and in control manner of speaking. “It looks like they’re forming a perimeter. Where are the others?”

“They left a few minutes ago to find the doctor. There’s no way they’ve found him, much less had time for Shade to copy him enough.”

“I’m sure the PRT will most likely be looking for our van and someone with your injuries and description, so we need to get out of here to buy Shade time. Can you get to the van without being conspicuous?”

“I’d have to ditch the chair.”

“Better than one of us coming in to get you.”

“Point taken,” I groused. Faultline had taken one of my civvy outfits to store in the van last week, and I was willing to bet she had backup clothes for herself too, but we had no time to waste.

“Go now. I’m turning the comms system back online and leaving the channel open. I’ll warn Shade.”

The call ended, and I shoved my phone back into my pocket. I pushed myself to my feet and wobbled a bit. The painkillers made me care less about the pain, but they had also left me a bit woozy. Or maybe it had something to do with the injury? When I stopped to think about it, I really wasn’t sure. I started towards the entrance of the ER but froze when I saw two PRT trucks pulling into the traffic circle just outside the door. 

Aisha’s voice suddenly filled my left ear. “—as that one patient you saved from a gunshot wound! Sooo inspiring!” There was a pause as the person Aisha was talking to, presumably the ER doctor she was going to mimic to get close to Panacea, began to reply. When someone spoke, what they heard of their own voice was apparently in part a vibration in their skull from their vocal cords. The comms system was designed to pick up on only that, else leaving the channel open would result in an impractical cacophony of noise. 

“Shade,” Faultline said, interrupting the ‘silence.’ “We have an emergency.”

How could I get out of here? The side exit was probably going to be barricaded soon if it wasn’t already. The rest of the crew were parked on the level of the parking lot just below the uppermost, and that had been several floors up, so my best bet was probably to take the nearest elevator to a higher floor—the roof if possible—and escape from there to the garage.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Aisha cheerfully said, her tone so full of sugar it was a wonder she didn’t instantaneously develop diabetes, “but my phone is vibrating with a call. I’ll be right baaack!” There was a brief pause, then she said, “Hi, this is May speaking!”

I switched gears and started walking away from the front door while searching for any signs indicating where the elevators were. There—an elevator symbol over the hallway Aisha had gone down to get to the bathrooms. I started that way and nearly stumbled when my feet didn’t quite keep up with my brain. Luckily I was able to grab hold of the metal in my bodysuit to keep myself upright.

“We need to switch to the backup plan after all. The Empire apparently figured out where we were and tipped off the PRT, who are already here. Meteor will regroup with us, then we’ll get out of here and reconvene with you later for you to heal her with Panacea’s power.”

I resumed moving towards the elevator as quickly as I could without outright running that way. There was no sense in drawing attention to myself and giving up the game.

There was a pause then Aisha heatedly replied, “Uh huh. Look, I don’t even _have_ a car, so I really doubt you can save me money on my car insurance.” Wow. Was all that anger faked for the ‘telemarketer’ call?

“Wait, where are you going?” the lady who checked me in called out as I walked past her desk. I didn’t stop to bother with her and proceeded straight past towards the hallway. 

“Switching your end to tap to talk, Shade. Stay focused, and get your hands on Panacea’s power ASAP,” Faultline responded.

Almost immediately I regretted not stopping when the lady at the desk called out to me. Even a second would have made a difference. As it was, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time when I walked past a triage room right as someone walked out through the curtain obscuring the entryway. They ran into my left arm, and I screamed in agony as pain lanced through my abused arm. My concentration on my power slipped, and between the rekindled pain, the wooziness from the meds, and being run into, I fell to the ground. Mercifully, momentum from the impact meant I fell to my right and didn’t land directly on my injured arm, though the landing still sent another surge of pain through me.

“Meteor?! What happened?” Faultline barked through the line.

“Jesus, are you okay?” someone said from nearby. The person who had run into me?

“I’m fine,” I lied through clenched teeth. The world swam around me in a sea of colors as I tried to get a grip on the pain, and I tried to get my bearings enough to push myself up into a sitting position but couldn’t manage it. “Just an… an accident.” Other people had rushed over to check on what had happened, and somebody was helping me sit up.

“Are there any rooms free right now?”

“No, but we can use one of the hallway beds in the back.”

“Meteor, what happened? Are you free to speak?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” I tried to argue as my vision began to settle and I found two nurses, one guy and one lady, kneeling by me and debating what to do. “I, um, got a call from my cousin. She’s a nurse here and needs me to go upstairs.”

In my periphery I saw the glass entrance to the ER slide open, and I turned my head to look. Two PRT officers with metal tanks strapped to their backs with tubes running to handheld launchers marched in, each flanking one side of a cape in military fatigues and American flag accents. Miss Militia, if remembered her name correctly. Her power was made obvious as the knife strapped to her thigh twisted into green and black mass of energy that shifted to her hands and reformed into a shotgun. It all felt quite strange to my power—sort of quickly melting away before bursting back into existence.

“That’s nonsense, we need to get you into a bed and looked over,” the male nurse replied in a stubborn tone.

“Um, okay, a bed then?” I said, shifting so I was facing away from the entrance. Hopefully Faultline could piece together what was happening from what I was saying. “Can you help me stand up?”

“Absolutely.”

The PRT officers were wearing lots of metal, and though I could feel the metal of Militia’s weapon, it felt slippery under my power. Was this what Faultline had been talking about, the Manton limit she suspected my power had? Was Militia’s weapon a ‘part’ of her? The nurse finished helping me to my feet, and I did my best to focus in spite of the pain still throbbing through my arm in order to use my power to keep myself upright and standing. Behind us, I felt Militia and her escorts reach the check-in desk, and I desperately hoped they wouldn’t look back this way. _If we can just get further down the hall, we’ll be out of sight…_

It wasn’t meant to be. “Meteor! Please stand down!” I felt her gun turn in my direction, though it thankfully remained aimed at the floor. The PRT goons, however, did bring theirs to bear.

I immediately reached up with my right hand to tug my scarf up over the lower half of my face. Not very subtle to do so in front of people, but better that than expose my unmasked face to a member of the Protectorate. The nurse who had helped me up looked towards Militia, glanced back towards me, then promptly stepped away with his hands in the air. Every inch of me wanted to grab all the nearby metal, form a wall between the white hats and me, and book it, but as Rune had correctly— _ugh_ —pointed out, this was a hospital. I needed to avoid starting a fight in here if at all possible. I slowly turned around and gave the hero a little wave with my right hand. “Miss Militia, right? I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but…”

“Dammit, they already have Protectorate on-site too?” I heard Faultline swear over the comms. “Don’t do anything reckless, Meteor.”

“That’s correct,” Militia confirmed. “Please surrender and tell us where Paige Mcabee is. This doesn’t need to get rough.”

“Keep her talking,” Faultline said. “I’m on my way with Newter.”

 _Oh sure, keep the one person who could probably successfully shoot me talking. No pressure, Faultline!_ “I, um, like your mask?” I blurted out. “Most people cover the eyes.”

Her facial muscles shifted, and though I couldn’t directly see her expression, I got the impression she was smiling. “Yes, I see you’re a fan of the look.” Her expression shifted again. “Assault hasn’t been able to report much yet on account of his injuries, but he did mention you. Said you seemed like a good kid.”

I winced. “Um, thanks? And we’re really, really sorry he got hurt that badly. Never would have happened if it hadn’t been for Loki.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. It certainly wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t attacked the convoy.”

“Sorry, but that was the job.”

“So you _were_ hired.” _Huh? Why else would we… Oh, did they think we thought she was a case 53?_ “Did your employer tell your team what Mcabee did? Did it even matter if the price was right?” She shook her head and lowered her weapon some more. “My apologies, that was uncalled for. Your arm clearly needs medical attention, and you don’t have your gear with you. Please surrender, so we can get you the care you need.”

“You know I can’t do that,” I replied, taking a step back. The PRT officers started to shift forward, but Militia held up her hand in a fist, and they froze in place.

“We’ve made it inside without the PRT noticing and or on our way to the stairwell by you,” Faultline updated me. _Stairwell? Where is it?_

“I think you’d be surprised what you can do, Meteor,” Militia calmly said. “You always have the chance to make the right choice.” The hero slowly bent over with the muzzle of her shotgun pointing to the side and away from me and set down the weapon before pulling herself back upright. “There. I know from experience with my teammates how naked a tinker feels without their equipment. Now I don’t have my equipment either. May I approach? I just want to check on your arm.”

 _Seems Faultline’s plan to make people think I’m a tinker worked_ , I thought. _At least_ something _went according to plan._ From here I could see people in the ER waiting area recording our conversation. Hopefully the rumor I was a tinker would spread as people watched the videos. “Yeah, I couldn’t exactly fly under the radar if I brought in all my tech,” I joked with a faked laugh. Hopefully the very real pain it was laced would mask any deficiencies in my acting. I still needed to buy Faultline and Newter more time to get here. Maybe I could play up the injured party angle? “I, um, don’t suppose you could talk Panacea into looking at it? I mean, it _was_ a hero who hurt me.”

Militia shook her head. “Boudicca isn’t affiliated with the Protectorate.”

“But Assault _is_ , and he amped her up right before she battered my arm until it broke. Until it _shattered_.”

“We can debate culpability all we want, Meteor, but it won’t change anything. I imagine we could get Panacea to fix up your arm if you surrendered and joined the Wards, but right now it’s very important that Mcabee is brought back into custody. She’s an extremely dangerous master. If she got free, then it’s possible she could hurt someone you care about.”

Behind the three of them, four more PRT agents were coming in through the ER entrance, though only two of them had foam launchers. The other two had shotguns that I had to imagine shot beanbags or some sort of nonlethal ammunition. I could feel Faultline’s costume descending rapidly nearby. Something long and made of metal was running from her position up to one of the upper floors. A grappling hook? _Just a bit longer_. I nodded towards the agents coming in. “Bit much just to capture an unarmed tinker, isn’t it?

Her facial muscles shifted again, but I couldn’t make out what expression she was making. “As I said, Mcabee is a very dangerous individual. We have to take all necessary precautions. Please surrender, Meteor. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

Faultline’s descent stopped. Judging by where she was, the stairwell must be at the end of the hallway branching off from this one. That meant Faultline and Newter would be coming into the area from my side. She approached a door in that vicinity and slowly began to turn its handle before likewise slowly pulling it open. “Y’know, Assault _did_ promise to treat me to dinner to make up for hitting me from behind earlier…”

Militia’s smile was back. “I did say you made a good impression on him. I’m going to walk over and secure you for now. Please don’t be alarmed. We’ll get you medical attention as soon as possible.” She slowly stepped forward, and I let her. After all, each step put her further away from her weapon, the lone variable in the situation I couldn’t control with my power.

The moment I saw her eyes snap up and to my left, I knew the jig was up. I swiped with my right arm, and each of the containment foam nozzles in the area turned then their triggers depressed. The two PRT officers closest to us sprayed one another, and the two with foam back by the ER entrance sprayed at each other as well while trying to also hit the remaining two officers. Militia’s weapon, which had been at the feet of the closest two officers melted away, and my eyes widened when green and black energy flashed into being in her hands followed immediately after by the same shotgun reappearing to my senses. She moved to bring it to bear on the ceiling behind me, and before it even registered what I was doing, I tried to push the muzzle of the shotgun down and to my left. Unfortunately I had no effect whatsoever, and a strange collection of metal shot out at a speed far too quick for me to follow. I heard a dull thwack just before Newter’s yelp of pain reached my ears, but I put it out of my mind for the moment in favor of trying to turn the foam nozzles this way. The foam was already solidifying to the point it was hard to move the metal with my power, but I managed to get one of them pointing in roughly the right direction.

“Get back!” I shouted as I hastily yanked myself further down the hall with my power, regretting my hasty decision when the movement heavily jostled my arm. Newter scrambled away from where he had fallen to the ground, and Faultline shot a taser at Militia while strafing sideways towards the direction I had flown. Militia was forced to dodge back and away from the taser, and I tried to depress the trigger of the foam launcher only to find the trigger had been foamed in place. In a last ditch act of desperation, I reached out to the internal components of the launcher and moved them as gently as I could in the manner I had felt when the triggers were pulled earlier. Unfortunately ‘gentle’ wasn’t really in my playbook, and the launcher didn’t so much spray foam in Militia’s direction as explode and send several huge globs of foam hurtling into her. The momentum from the globs impacting her back, left arm, and left leg sent her tumbling to the ground, and though some of it hit her weapon, it dispersed into energy once more before reforming into a pistol after the foam had fallen away. She swiftly took aim at Faultline, but my wily boss was already throwing something at the floor that exploded in a burst of smoke. She leapt to the right, and something I couldn’t feel hurtled through the space where she had been just a moment prior. _Rubber bullet?_ With Militia distracted momentarily by Faultline and her left side being stuck to the ground, Newter managed to close the distance and tap her hand. Militia’s eyes went wide, and her weapon began to flicker back and forth between forms at a dizzying pace, barely settling on one for longer than a second before moving on to another.

I almost let my guard down, but then I heard Faultline call out, “On our six!”

I felt the guns rising behind us and cursed my distraction. My focus on Militia had led to me ignoring the rest of what my power was telling me. The three PRT officers who had snuck around to pincer us fired their weapons, but Faultline’s warning had brought them to my attention, and I swiftly melted the three bullets leaving the chambers into liquid. I started to divert my attention to disabling the guns, but the officers freaked out and started to squeeze out more rounds. I couldn’t split my attention well enough to stop the bullets and the guns firing them, and perhaps just as importantly, if I screwed with the inner mechanisms of the gun while they were shooting, the guns might misfire and explode. I turned to face the officers and saw the expressions of horror on their faces as each bullet fell apart before their eyes, adding to the growing puddle of metal hanging in the air in front of them. Faultline was already on top of one of them, ducking slightly before coming at him in a sort of uppercut that made the gun spark with red and blue light on contact and split in two. The other officers began to get empty clicks when pulling their triggers and scrambled to eject their magazines, but Faultline tapped the next gun in line. Meanwhile, I gestured negligently and made the third one begin to melt like the bullets, causing the officer to drop it like she had just realized she was holding a viper. 

“KO!” Newter called out. I recognized the shorthand from training but couldn’t easily do much to get out of the way, so I stayed as still as possible as an orange blur shot past me. Faultline was already ducking out to the side, leaving the way clear for Newter to swipe his tail in an arc that touched the exposed skin of each officers’ face.

I breathed heavily for a moment, enjoying the feeling of adrenaline thrumming through my veins once again and dulling the pain back down. I was aware phones might still be recording us, though the blob of foamed officers in the middle of the hallway had to cut off some of the viewing angle. As stealthily as I could, I pulled some of the liquid remnants of the gun on the floor to me then up my front and arm to my hand before forming it as well as I could into a couple replicas of my orbs. They were a bit large, but it would have to do. “Not bad for the _supposedly_ unarmed tinker, right?” I remarked, speaking up a bit so I could be clearly heard in the waiting room and twirling the orbs in the air over my hand. “But thanks for the backup. Very appreciated.”

“Many PRT are moving to ER door,” Gregor announced over the comms. Sure enough, a number of the rifles, pistols, and foam launchers in my range outside were advancing in our general direction.

“Time to go,” Faultline declared, turning on her heel and racing back down the hall she and Newter had come from.

“Ladies first,” Newter said, gesturing towards the hallway.

“There’s the gentleman I was missing this morning,” I joked with a hint of a wince as I lifted myself off the ground and moved to follow Faultline while trying my best to keep my left arm still by holding my shoulder in place. I made a point to bring all the liquid metal with me, so I wouldn’t be unarmed if—no, _when_ —we ran into more trouble.

“Sorry, never been a morning person,” he quipped back as he dashed past, easily out pacing my slower, controlled flight. “I’m more the type to stay up late and have a good time.”

I could feel and hear the PRT backup rushing in through the front doors, and I made a few of the foam launchers shoot foam then grit my teeth as I pushed myself to fly faster. The stairwell was on our right, and Newter held the door to the stairwell open as I felt Faultline rapidly ascend using the grapple hook she had left in place. I flew up after her, and below me, I saw Newter jump back and forth between the flights of stairs, clinging only long enough to push off to the next. Soon enough we all reached the level Faultline and Newter had come in at, and we had a tremendous lead over the officers pursuing us from the ER. 

We still had a problem though. “I think there’s a cape out there,” I alerted the team as we exited the stairwell and turned right. There were some staff in sight, but they were all taking shelter behind desks or in rooms. “There’s a metal pole, disk, and some sort of helmet like Boudicca’s in the vicinity of the parking garage. They’re all together and moving in sync.”

“Could be Dauntless?” Newter suggested, looking to Faultline.

“Can you affect these items, Meteor?” Faultline asked. “If it is Dauntless, then he has no power without his tools.”

I gently probed the three items and frowned. My power was gripping the helmet just fine, but my connection with the other two pieces felt shaky. It was almost like the metal was resisting, and I hadn’t experienced that before. “The helmet, but only kind of for the rest. Not very much.”

Faultline nodded as though she had expected as much. “It’s likely Dauntless. It’s promising that you can affect his lance and shield at all.” She paused for a moment then continued. “It’s a bad day for Labyrinth, so she should be able to affect most of the parking garage by this point. Gregor, send a message to Shade then get ready for a fight. We need to buy her more time.”

* * *

Newter and I easily crossed the gap over to the parking garage, and I carried Faultline over by forming the metal I had brought with me into two rings for her to grip. Our van was at the far end, and we had apparently been stealthy enough in crossing that Dauntless hadn’t noticed us from his position by the van.

“Exit the vehicle, but do not attempt to flee,” he called out, his voice steady and unyielding but without a hard edge.

 _That’s a lame costume_ , was my first thought once I saw his full appearance. I supposed it might appeal to some people, but the clean and neat Spartan look just seemed hollow to me. Boudicca’s hadn’t been dirty, but at least it had that weathered, realistic look that made me believe some ancient warrior might have worn the same thing. However, although the underlying elements were stupid, his equipment was amazing enough to somewhat make up for them. The pole I had felt was a lance that crackled with pure energy and looked like captured lightning, the disk was a small shield on his left forearm that emitted the same energy in a twisting spiral, and his boots, which must have been leather or some other material I couldn’t feel, were likewise glowing with energy and left him standing in midair over the floor of the parking garage. Faultline had very hastily explained how his power worked while we made our way from the stairwell to the window they had used to enter earlier. Apparently those three items, and perhaps his armor, were items he empowered on a regular basis. The lance could extend rapidly and electrocute, the shield could expand to cover an area, and the boots not only let him fly but made him very fast. The thought was he might have no limit and could grow strong enough someday to kill Endbringers. He wasn’t there yet, but he definitely wasn’t someone to be trifled with, and we had to avoid doing any lasting damage at all cost. The cape community, and not just the heroes, would come down on us hard if we ruined one of humanity’s only chances to put an end to the ongoing threat of those monsters.

“We’ve got company incoming,” I whispered when I felt a collection of metal arrayed in thin lines contouring to the shape of a woman moving swiftly upwards in a spiral nearby—presumably ascending the parking garage stairwell. The movement abruptly paused partway up and stayed very still.

I relayed what I was sensing, and Faultline quietly replied, “Battery. Can move and strike very fast but can only do it on a charge and is limited in movement while charging. There have been reports she can spend that charge in other ways, but nothing publicly broadcast.”

Sure enough, the hero burst into motion a second later and swiftly reached our level. She wore a visor made of what looked like glass for a mask, and the metal lines covering her body were apparently paths of illuminated circuitry. Their light had been dimming as she exited the stairwell, but once she came to a stop, they began to reverse course towards glowing brightly once more. Unfortunately, the stairwell wasn’t far from us, so she spotted us immediately. “Dauntless! The rest are here!” Having alerted her fellow hero, she said, “Faultline. This is a startling low for you and your group. Freeing a dangerous master? Attacking a hospital?”

“Good evening, Battery,” Faultline responded casually. “I must correct you: We were not attacking a hospital but rather getting our teammate medical attention.”

I gave a little wave from where I stood to the side. “Still haven’t gotten that, by the way. Hurts like a bitch.”

“You hospitalized Assault!”

“An accident after Loki touched one of us,” Faultline easily countered, “but I suppose it’s understandable that Assault getting hurt would make _you_ see red, Battery.”

“No way, are they a couple?!” I blurted out when I realized what she was implying. “That’s actually kinda cute that they have coordinating names.” Battery gave me a look, and I defensively argued, “What? It _is_ cute.”

“Tell your teammates to get out of the van,” Dauntless cut in before the conversation could get any more derailed, having flown over while we were talking.

“You seem certain they’re in there,” Faultline replied.

“It’s an unmarked van with all tinted windows, and hospital staff reported you entered the building on a level that’s more or less in line with here,” Battery darkly drawled, a hint of anger shining through in her words. “So yes, we’re sure that’s your van.”

A glob of slime slammed into Battery from the side, knocking her to the ground. At the same time, I saw the side panel of our van at the opposite end of the garage open up and reveal Labyrinth, which was promptly followed by walls rising up from the floor of the garage and blocking my view of Dauntless. “Meteor and Labyrinth, keep Dauntless occupied. Everyone else on Battery,” Faultline whispered, the comms easily picking up her words.

A hole appeared in one of Labyrinth’s walls courtesy of a crackling blast of lightning, and when Dauntless tried to fly through, I tugged his lance sharply to the side as hard as I could. Even though it didn’t move as much as it should have, it clipped the side of the freshly made hole, throwing him into a spin that sent him crashing to the ground. I immediately tried to relieve him of his weapon, but apparently he wasn’t completely out of it and tightened his grip at the first hint of it moving independently again. The ground near him twisted up into a large statue that was already in the midst of falling over onto him. He just barely managed to get his feet under him in time and practically blurred as he moved out of the way courtesy of his boots. I tried to take advantage of his distraction and send the metal I had brought with me flying towards him, but he noticed the large blob of metal in time and dodged, drawing a curse from me.

“Try to keep him occupied for a sec, Labyrinth,” I whispered. “I need a clean shot at him.”

The floor around him burst into fire, then the kindled flames shot up towards the ceiling with a roar. I felt him raise his shield, then the flames mostly dissipated when a dome of crackling lightning formed around and over him before expanding outward a short distance. Apparently not to be dissuaded, Labyrinth ignited the floor around the dome, putting the edges of the ring of flames close to the cars on each side. I felt his shield and lance shift, then they both shot forward towards me, pushing aside the flames as they passed. I dodged to the side in anticipation of a strike, but apparently he hadn’t been aiming to hit me but rather to clear the way through the flames. The lance and shield, which he had attached together to a makeshift battering ram, retracted as he dashed forward at speed courtesy of his boots. With the rest of the ring of fire still in place, Labyrinth wouldn’t be able to see what was happening in time, so I reshaped the metal I had into as close a facsimile of my shield as I could and braced myself as I pushed it into elsewhere. His shield detached itself from the tip of his lance and smoothly moved back to his left forearm without him needing to handle it—a perk of the empowerment?—and he thrust the spear forward. If he had been striking to kill, the backlash when he struck my shield would have been much worse for him, but his blow had apparently been intended to pierce my shield without moving on through me, so the backlash was only mild and mostly served to shove the tip to the side and off course.

Dauntless was close enough and his helmet open enough that I saw the look of bewilderment cross his face. The flames between us and Labyrinth finished dissipating, and a spike burst out of the floor up and into his shield. The force of the blow sent him flying away from me, and I hastily pulled my makeshift shield out of elsewhere and sent it after him. He course corrected in midair, but his impromptu flight had apparently left him disoriented enough this time that he was unable to dodge my efforts. The shield was already mid-liquefaction when it slapped against his left thigh, and the metal immediately wrapped around the back of his leg and connected together. He clumsily tried to swipe it away with his left hand, but the liquid was already splitting and spreading over him and easily shifted around his efforts. In a few moments, a band of metal was moving down each of his legs and into his boots, and I tugged them off, sending him tumbling to the ground as his ability to fly was stolen away. 

“What? No!” he shouted as the boots moved to me and began to slowly rotate in orbit. “Give those back!”

I opened my mouth to reply but stopped short when Faultline spoke up from behind me, “Call off any reinforcements on their way and let us leave in peace, and I guarantee we’ll remit them to PRT custody.” I turned around and saw Gregor was standing with her and Newter was standing over a seated but dazed Battery, who had traces of Gregor’s goop all over her costume. If I had to guess, Battery had been hampered from the start by Gregor’s sneak attack, and she hadn’t been able to recover enough to avoid Newter.

“You say that like I have any guarantee you won’t just keep them,” Dauntless growled.

“Of course you do. We’re mercenaries, and this is a transaction—your boots for our freedom. If you agree to the deal, then we will honor it.”

Even from here, I could tell he was grinding his teeth. “I have to run that by leadership,” he finally said, the words sounding like they physically pained him to voice them. He slowly reached a hand into his helmet and began relaying Faultline’s terms to someone on the other end of the Protectorate’s communications system. A tense couple of minutes later, he abruptly said, “But ma’am!” He was silent for a few moments longer then slumped a bit in defeat. “Director Piggot is asking to speak with you.”

“Of course. Number?” Faultline asked. He rattled off a number, and she pulled out a phone and called it. “Madam Director, always a pleasure.”

I was close enough that I could just barely hear the voice on the other end. “Save it, Faultline. When, where, and how you will return the boots.”

“One week from today, Somer’s Rock, our whole team meeting with one Protectorate member.”

“Surely you jest. Tomorrow, the Rig, one of you and three of us.”

“You say I’m joking, but you seem to be the one playing around, Director. Five days, the Boardwalk, three of us and one of you.”

“Three days, PRT building, two of you and two of us.”

“Three days is acceptable. As for the rest… Let’s say Gregor and I will meet with Armsmaster and Gallant. Domino masks only, no gear.”

“I won’t be involving Wards in this. You and Meteor will meet with Armsmaster and Miss Militia. Armsmaster will bring his gear if Meteor will be attending with hers.”

“You say you don’t want to involve your Wards, but you’re asking me to bring Meteor in? And you insult me with your insinuation we would double-cross you, Director. Meteor and I will meet with Armsmaster and Gallant at noon three days from today at Fugly Bob’s. Again, _no gear_ —masks only.”

The voice at the other end turned that over for a few seconds. “Done. I’m warning you, Faultline Any double crossing will be met with swift retaliation.”

“Then we have an accord. As ever, you can count on us to honor our word, Madam Director, just as I’m sure we can count on you to honor yours. We’re looking forward to your future patronage.” The call ended, and Faultline retrieved the SIM card from the phone before bisecting the phone with a brief flare of her power. She held out the pieces of the phone towards me and casually asked, “Meteor, if you would be so kind as to dump this in the trash can by the elevator. We certainly would not want to litter in front of an officer of the law.”

I had been staring at her, just trying to keep up with their rapid fire back and forth, and being so abruptly addressed startled a nervous laugh out of me. “Oh, um, sure thing.” I made a point to aim my hand at the phone remnants then made an errant tossing gesture over my shoulder before maneuvering them towards the metal trash can.

We all started to make our way over to the van, but I couldn’t help but glance back several times at Dauntless. It was obviously killing the hero to let us go, but if ‘Director Piggot’ was the regional director for the PRT as I suspected, then going against her orders would probably be career suicide. He busied himself with kneeling by Battery to check on her, and I turned my attention to climbing into the van. Newter sat in the shotgun once more to avoid touching anyone by accident, and Gregor took the driver’s seat. That left Faultline and I joining Labyrinth and the still bound Canary in the back. I briefly wondered why Canary hadn’t tried to escape, but then I glanced at her shackles again and realized escaping us was likely to lead to being recaptured by the PRT. If I were her, I would have taken my chances with us too.

Faultline retrieved the control panel for our comms system and adjusted the settings for a moment.

“—ank goodness we got her up to you in time, Amy. She would have lost her arm without you.” I didn’t recognize the masculine, rumbly voice, but since it was coming through the comms in my ear, there was only one person it could be. 

“Shade, this is Faultline. I need your status ASAP.”

There was silence for a while as Shade presumably listened to whatever was being said to her locally, and Gregor started up the van in the meantime. Once he began to pull forward out of the parking spot, Shade finally spoke again. “I’ll take Masuyo back down to the ER for now, since the PRT have the building locked down. Have a good evening.”

I glanced out the tinted window at Dauntless, anxious he might decide to take a parting shot, but despite the desire to lance our van made obvious by his tight grip on his weapon, he kept it aimed away.

“Yo, I got it,” I heard Shade say, this time in her normal voice. “Where we meeting back up?”

“Get to the rooftop and avoid being seen if possible. Meteor will be flying us away.” Gregor heard the implied directions and wordlessly steered us towards the up ramp instead of the down ramp. “The PRT agreed to let us leave, but they never agreed they wouldn’t track us. We need to avoid all traffic cameras until we’re out of the city.” 

“Leaving ET style, I love it. We’re on the second floor by the ICU. Give us a few minutes, and we’ll be up there.”

Dauntless stared at us as we drove up the ramp but didn’t move to follow. Hopefully that meant he had orders from his bosses to stay put. I really, really wanted to avoid any more cape fights. Three in one day was enough, thank you very much. 

“You’re going to need to fly us away from here first, Meteor. We need to play this close to the chest. The PRT needs to think we all left here in this van, otherwise they might check the cameras for people in civilian clothes acting suspiciously and tie Shade’s civilian identity and your cousin to us.”

“Right, got it,” I said as Gregor slowed to a stop at the top of the ramp. I lifted us into the air and moved us up and away as quickly as I could.

“We’ll lose you on the comms for a bit, Shade. Meteor will be back soon,” Faultline said.

“Huh? Wait, just me?” I confusedly asked.

“Like I said, the van needs to have left in the eyes of the PRT. If you set us down somewhere nearby, then you can fly back and grab them.”

Newter twisted around in his seat and shot me a grin. “There’s no need to be nervous! The saying for good luck is ‘break a leg,’ and you’ve got a broken arm. It should work just as well.”

I gave him my best squinty-eyed glare. “Mean.”

“Thank you! I do my best,” he replied while giving me a shit eating grin and a thumbs up.

* * *

I grit my teeth as I flew back towards Bayside with the control panel of the comms system in hand and all of the orbs from my backpack floating en masse beside me. The winds this high in the air were a lot more brutal than they were on the ground, and it was wreaking havoc on my arm. Plus they were freezing to boot. The sooner Shade fixed me up and we were back in the van, the better. The system in my hands pinged, and I glanced down at it. The rest of the crew’s channels had disconnected a minute ago, and Shade’s channel had just reconnected with the system.

“Shade, it’s Meteor. Can you hear me?”

“Loud ‘n’ clear.”

“Super. Ready for—” I cut myself off with a hiss of pain as a particularly violent gust of air buffeted me.

“Ya okay?”

“Yeah,” I managed after a moment. “Wind is just fucking with my arm really bad.”

“Well come get us, and I’ll fix up your arm.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I quickly flew down and started to alight on the roof by its sole two occupants only to have the air slam into my arm once more. As a result, my landing wasn’t quite as graceful as I had been aiming for, but Masuyo thankfully quickly rushed over to help me stay upright. Strangely, her right sleeve looked like it had been burned away, and some spots on the right side of her scrubs also had clear spots of damage.

“Six out of ten,” Shade remarked as she approached distracting me from my confusion about Masuyo’s attire. “I was prepared to give you an eight, but you didn’t stick the landing.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “Any time you feel like fixing me up, I’d appreciate it.”

“So hang on, we gotta plan this out first.”

“Plan? What is there to plan?”

“What I’m saying is I’m only gonna be able to use her power for so long, and I imagine you might have other shit you want done.”

Masuyo looked as baffled as I felt. “‘Other shit’?”

Shade crossed her arms and gave me a significant look. “Yeah, girl shit. Like breasts, hips, ass, that sort of thing?”

Masuyo stiffened besides me, and I closed my eyes, resigned. “You… you know then?”

“You already forget I turned into you yesterday?” she replied. “I mean, I was pretty sure before that, but that confirmed it.”

“Aisha, I…” I hadn’t meant to say her real name, but I was completely blown away. I felt the wetness on my cheek but couldn’t bring myself to mind as I started to chuckle. One chuckle became two, became more, became outright laughing as the tears carved their way down my face. It was absurd. It wasn’t real. How could it be? She was offering everything I had ever wanted, or at least some of it, all for the price of… nothing? That couldn’t be. There had to be a catch. This sort of thing just didn’t happen to me. Just look at today: Sure, we got the job done, but I got completely trashed in the process. Even trying to fix my arm had been a complete disaster with Rune bringing the PRT down on us. Mom dying, Rodriguez turning traitor on me, nearly being drowned by a nazi… This kind of thing _didn’t happen_. Happy endings were just fairy tale bullshit people told kids because they didn’t want to admit the world was fucked up.

I felt the metal moving before I heard the voice. “So… this is awkward.”

_Knew it._

Masuyo and Shade whirled to face the voice, but I just turned to look with resigned acceptance. I had never seen Amy Dallon, AKA Panacea, in the flesh before, but even in Brooklyn people knew who Panacea was. The wonder cape who could heal any injury that didn’t affect the brain, who had brought back so many capes from the brink of death at Endbringer fights that people treated her with borderline reverence. She was surprisingly a bit shorter than me, and her curly brown hair framed a face that was absolutely jam packed with freckles that took up the majority of her somewhat tanned skin. She was wearing a plain green, long sleeved shirt and jeans with her trademark white robe and its red crosses crammed into a ball and tucked under her arm as she huddled inward to shield a lighter from the wind and light the cigarette tucked into her mouth. Once the stick was lit, she shoved the lighter into her pants pocket and resumed trekking over to us from where she had been hiding behind the AC unit.

“Just to be clear from the start, don’t try anything funny. My sister’s nearby and will crush you like ants.” I was only passingly familiar with the rest of New Wave, but if I recalled correctly, her sister was Glory Girl, a flying, invincible powerhouse like Alexandria of the Triumvirate, the three strongest heroes of the Protectorate. Not somebody we wanted to fight if we could help it. I didn’t feel anyone else nearby, but I _had_ missed Panacea, so I didn’t want to take any chances. The healer paused a short distance away and tilted her head. “I thought something was up when Saltzman and a nurse with an arm rotting away from acid showed up, but I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting this.”

I started at that, my eyes flicking over to Masuyo’s arm then back to Shade. “You used Gregor’s acid on her _arm_?”

“Hey, maybe if the _goddamn Empire_ hadn’t fucked everything up, we could have just gone with the original plan, but I had to improvise, okay?” There was that abrupt, brief flare of anger again. What the hell was up with that?

Panacea took a long pull on the cigarette, the orange tip glowing brightly in the night, then breathed out a ring of smoke. I was impressed in spite of myself. “So what _was_ the original plan?” she drawled. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Shade was going to impersonate Saltzman and get you to pay Meteor a visit in the ER,” Masuyo quietly admitted. “In and out. None of this… debacle had to happen.”

“Debacle’s a good way to put it.” The healer took another drag on her cigarette. The irony wasn’t lost on me, especially since it was well known she couldn’t heal herself. She eyed us—no, _Shade_ —with a look I couldn’t quite decipher. “Shade, right? So how does your power work?”

“And why exactly would I tell you?” Shade demanded, her expression mutinous.

“Because… because I want to make a deal.”

That shocked the contrariness right out of Shade. “Huh? A deal?”

Panacea’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah… Provided you can do it. So spill. How does your power work?”

Shade and I shared a look, and I shrugged at the question in her eyes. She turned back to Panacea, hesitated, then replied, “I copy people—their appearance and powers.”“You mentioned a time limit a minute ago.”

“Yeah, it’s… I copy someone by being near them, and I rack up time by staying nearby, but I get more faster by talking to them or watching them use their power.”

“And you… You know how to use the power? Just like that?”

Shade’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I get their skills too. I’m fully aware of what you can _really_ do.” Panacea winced, and I shot Shade a confused, inquiring look, but she shook her head minutely and mouthed ‘later.’

“You could do it… You could actually do it,” Panacea muttered, seemingly to herself.

“Do _what_?” I asked. The other girl started like she was only just remembering I was there.

She bit her lip. “Understand that if you tell _anybody_ what I’m about to say, I’ll leak all of your names. I know who they are,” I winced there, since she wouldn’t have known Shade’s real name if I hadn’t blurted it out a minute ago, “and it’s obvious you’re related to her,” her eyes shifted briefly to Masuyo then back to me, “so I can get your name easy. I could figure it out that way, or just check the ER records for who got checked in.”

This was feeling all too familiar. Mutually assured destruction went so well for me last time, as Rune all too clearly demonstrated earlier tonight. “ _Fine_. We get it. Just fucking say it already.”

She brought the cigarette back to her lips and took yet another long drag while her foot tapped out a staccato rhythm on the rooftop. All the threats and psyching herself up… Just what _was_ this deal?

“I’ll fix your arm and give you a boob job or whatever, but in exchange… Shade, you need to… to…” She took a deep, steadying breath. “I want you to make it so I don’t love Victoria anymore.”

_Victoria? Who…?_

“No way…” Shade muttered, her eyes bugging out a bit. “Your _sister_ …?”

 _Was that Glory Girl’s real name?_ I struggled to remember. New Wave were famously some of the only capes who operated under codenames but no masks, but even with that minor claim to fame, I had never bothered to really familiarize myself with them. After all, I hadn’t lived in the same city as them until just a few weeks ago. “I don’t get it. You want to hate your sister? Why?”

The healer’s eye twitched. “I don’t want to _hate_ her, you moron!”

“But then…?”

“Look,” Shade interrupted. “Imagine you and Masuyo were sisters instead of cousins.” 

Masuyo and I both stiffened as Shade admitted our relation. “Way to go, Shade. Let’s make it nice and easy for her to blackmail us, shall we?”

“She already figured it out! Look, just—the point is, imagine if you two were sisters and in love with each other.”

I frowned. “What, like we grew up together or something?”

“No, not like that! Like _in love_ love each other!”

My jaw dropped. I turned to Panacea, expecting her to rebut what Shade was implying, but if anything her miserable expression was damning. “You fell in love with your sister? What the hell?”

“We’re adopted…” she weakly defended, but it was obvious from her tone and expression that even she wasn’t buying it. “Just… look, can you do it or not?”

“How could she?” Masuyo asked. “Your power doesn’t work… on…” Her eyes widened and so did mine as we apparently both remembered at the same time what Shade had said earlier regarding Panacea’s power.

“I had to draw a line,” Panacea whispered, looking away with far away eyes. “What if I screwed up, and made someone into… somebody else? What if I couldn’t stop myself from going further, from doing more than I should? I had to draw a line, I had to!”

“Panacea— _Amy_ ,” Masuyo said, her voice firm. The sound of her real name seemed to snap her out of her reverie, and I reminded myself Panacea was exactly that: Amy. A girl with powers, just like me. Sure, the… implications of what she could do were crazy, but at the end of the day, she ate, she went to sleep, she… she loved. “It’s okay. We understand.” She looked to me, to Shade, then back to Panacea. “You want to make a deal, right? You want Shade to remove your… desire for your sister, and in return, you’ll… you’ll give Meteor what she w-wants. I think that’s agreeable.”

Shadows crawled over Shade’s skin, and her body twisted to match Panacea’s shape and size before pulling away and revealing her face beneath. Panacea startled a bit and took a step back, but Shade held out her hand—Panacea’s… _Amy’s_ hand. Amy stared at it like it might lash out and bite her for a moment, but then her expression slowly settled into one of grim determination, and she tentatively reached out her hand and settled it in Shade’s. Shade seemed to concentrate for a few minutes, her eyes focused on something only she could see, then abruptly Amy blinked and a look of wonder crossed her face.

“I… She…”

“I’m pretty sure I only removed the ‘wanna bang her’ love,” Shade quipped. “Oh, and the damage to your lungs. Like, I get it’s stress relief or makes you look sexy or whatever, but you should probably stop with the cancer sticks.”

Amy sobbed and fell to her knees with a watery laugh. “I love her still, but like Crystal or the twerp. Maybe more? But not—not like _… Thank you_!”

Shade looked away awkwardly. “Guess I got it?”

Masuyo’s phone started to ring, startling us all. She pulled it out and checked the caller ID. “It’s Faultline. She’s probably worried the PRT got us or something.”

“We’ll just handle this,” Shade hurriedly said, hooking her arm through Masuyo’s and dragging her away. “You two can finish up her end of the deal once she’s, um, done with… that.”

I briefly watched them move away towards the other side of the roof then turned my attention back to the girl crying at my feet. Her eyes rose to meet mine, and she sniffled a bit before looking away, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry, I just… You have no idea what it’s like… I didn’t want to feel that way, but I couldn’t help it…”

I carefully used my power to lower myself into a sitting position in front of her. “Not the exact same, no, but… I can empathize.” She gave me a confused look, and I sighed. “You’re gonna figure it out in a second anyway, so there’s no point hiding it. I’m transgender. All my life, people have been trying to get me to be someone I’m not. For a long time, I… I didn’t _want_ to feel this way. Tried to ignore it, convince myself I was mistaken, you know?”

“I suppose I can see the similarities,” she softly said. “So what she was saying before… it’s not just vanity or something like that?”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s… it’s about being _me_.”

She slowly nodded. “Do I have your permission to heal you? And, uh, make… changes?”

I blinked. “That _was_ the deal.”

“Sorry, Carol’s a lawyer. It’s second nature to ask at this point.”

 _Right, whoever Carol is_. “Okay. Well, you have my permission to heal my arm. The rest, um… C-Can we do those one at a time?”

“Sure. We can do that, Meteor.”

“June,” I blurted out. “I, mean, um… Y-You could figure it out anyway, right?”

Her expression seemed to soften just a bit. “June then,” she whispered. Hearing her say my name like that felt like she was admitting some dark secret, and I felt a shiver crawl up my spine. She reached over and laid her hand on mine. “I’m going to remove sensation in your arm while I fix it, okay? Don’t freak out.” I was glad she warned me. It was weird and unnerving to just suddenly lose all feeling in my arm, but as I watched the bone slink back into me and the open hole in the back of my arm seal up, I was glad for it. I didn’t _want_ to know what that felt like. I abruptly felt my arm again a few seconds later, and she withdrew her hand. “All done with that. I’ll need your cousin for the next part.”

“Why?”

“I _could_ just eyeball adjusting things, but she’s your blood relative, right? If I base the changes off of her, then they’ll be a lot closer to what you would have naturally been like.”

 _What I’d have been naturally like?_ Tears were rolling down my cheeks again. _This really is some fairy tale bullshit_.

“I’m sorry!” she said, her words tinged with worry. “I guess that’s a bit presumptuous of me? Did you want something else?”

“No,” I croaked out before hiccuping. “No, that’s… That’s _exactly_ what I want. It’s what I’ve _always wanted_.”

“Meteor, are you okay?” I looked up and realized Masuyo had come back over.

I abruptly felt anxious. Today had been a marked change for her. She had been surprisingly cooperative and willing to put herself on the line for me, but would this be too much? Would she say no to this?

“Meteor?” she asked, kneeling down beside me. “What’s wrong?”

I tugged down my mask, wanting—no _needing_ —her to see my feelings, to understand how badly I needed this. “Masuyo, I… Amy is offering to base my changes off of you, s-so I’m more like… like I _would have been_. You’ll… You’ll help, right?”

Her eyes widened, and she flopped down, so she was sitting on her hip instead of crouching. “I… I see…”

“Please,” I begged her, my voice cracking over that one, simple word.

She let out a huff of air. “And you’re sure… You’re totally sure? You have no doubts at all this is what you really want? She might not be able to… _undo_ this.”

“ _Yes_.”

Masuyo slowly held out her hand to Panacea. “Okay.”

I thought my face might split in two, I smiled so wide. I turned to Amy with renewed tears and held out my hand. “ _Thank you_ ,” I said, not sure I could properly express how much this meant to me in only those two words.

“You’re welcome,” she replied as she looked me in the eye before coughing and blushing a bit. I probably should have dialed back my excitement a bit, but I just couldn’t help it. I was probably embarrassing her. “Let’s… let’s begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! That's the longest chapter yet. Thank you all for making it this far—I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it. 2.y should be out next Friday, unless my plans go awry. After that... my partner's going through with the intercranial probe on the 1st, so I think I'll be taking a week off before diving into Arc 3, Bell. But who knows, maybe I'll need the distraction to stay sane, since it's unlikely I'll be able to actually stay with them at the hospital thanks to COVID-19. Please keep us in your thoughts!


	16. Forge 2.y

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Glares blearily at clock pronouncing it's 4 AM EST]
> 
> Screw you clock, I haven't gone to sleep yet, so it's still 'Friday'! I made it! Gawd!

Renee whistled when the oil rig finally came in sight. “Bloody hell,” she muttered, “you Bayers really know how to treat your heroes, don’t you?”

The PRT officer driving in the front chuckled and joked, “We prefer ‘Brocktonites,’ you tourist.”

She smiled weakly. “Tourist, huh? Not for long.” The officer riding shotgun turned and gave her a look she couldn’t quite parse with their visor down and obscuring their eyes. Their lips were pressed together into a thin line though, so she could hazard a guess. _Get in line, mate. I’m not chuffed with being here either._

The driver brought the vehicle to a stop then grabbed the mic from the console and brought it to his face. “This is transport B-05. Requesting bridge connection.”

The feeling of discomfort already lodged firmly in her gut swelled at the sight. When Renee had been little, she had frequently joined her mother at the British embassy after school. One day there had been a bomb threat, and after a local independent hero had defused the bomb, the two of them had been escorted in squad cars home by the police. The radio had been similar, albeit more crackly sounding, and the sight of that handheld mic pulled those memories to the surface. The uncertainty. The fear.

The betrayal.

A few seconds passed, then a voice replied over the speakers of the vehicle. “Acknowledged, B-05. Bridge engaging.”

Renee physically bit her lip to contain the urge to ooh and aah over the sparkling bridge of light that rapidly extended from the rig, arcing towards them until it touched the ground around nine or ten meters in front of the idling vehicle. The driver gently but firmly accelerated forward, and in moments, the vehicle was on the bridge instead of terra firma. In spite of herself, a small thrill wormed its way through her. She didn’t _really_ want to be here, but she had been earnest in her awe of the Brockton Bay Protectorate headquarters.

Said structure was looming ever higher over her as they crossed out and over the water, and despite intellectually knowing nothing would go wrong, she instinctively started planning what to do if the bridge vanished. They were high enough over the water that even with seatbelts, impact with the water might knock the three of them out. _Survive impact by punching them to bolster defenses, then break out of vehicle by using one of their weapons to shoot out the glass,_ she internally rehearsed. _If it’s bulletproof, then shoot yourself in the foot to boost offense before_ making _the glass break._ Her planning proved unnecessary when the vehicle eventually slipped onto the rig proper, safe and sound. She would still plan for the worst case scenario next time though. She always did. After all, the difference between a living cape and a dead cape often came down to who had prepared better.

A woman in a clean cut suit stepped forward as Renee opened the door and stepped out. “Boudicca?”

“That’s me.” _Were you expecting some other cape in a costume just like mine? Honestly._

“My name is Rebecca White, and I’m with Legal. I’ll be helping you go over and sign your paperwork today. I know it’s been discussed with you ad nauseam by now, but it’s important you understand your rights and responsibilities as a member of the Protectorate.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to sign up for anything without knowing what will be required of me,” she replied, forcing herself to smile. If it came out as more of a grimace, then Ms. White didn’t comment on it.

“That’s a commendable attitude. If you’ll follow me, then we’ll get you checked in at the front desk and make our way to the fun.”

 _The fun? I hope that was sarcasm._ She gave the officers who had driven her there a quick wave farewell, which the driver amicably returned. The other officer simply gave a perfunctory nod, but at least that was an improvement over their behavior on the drive over.

She had known the paperwork would be tedious, but Renee had already needed to consume a couple cups of coffee to avoid crashing from sheer boredom. _This isn’t what being a hero’s about,_ she griped to herself as the lawyer—whose name she had already forgotten—finished reviewing obligatory PR events and moved on to merchandising rights. Yes, she understood PR was important, and yes it was nice she would get a salary out of this and no longer need to work a civilian job to support her basic human needs. That didn’t change how she felt.

Just thinking about this phony, ‘on-brand’ heroism made her want to puke. Perhaps it was because the radio in the PRT vehicle earlier had stirred up memories of that night, but she found her thoughts drifting back to the bomb threat. She had been fourteen at the time and frightened out of her mind when her mother’s staff had gotten the call. Who wouldn’t be? Maybe someone else wouldn’t have been as aware of their own mortality as she had been at that age, but then, most people weren’t cancer survivors at fourteen either. She had thought the blood, sweat, tears, and sheer _will to live_ she had put into beating her illness was about to be erased—gone in a flash and rendered pointless. But then the _hero_ had arrived and saved the day.

The _hero_. The man who had likewise planted the bomb in the first place. Apparently being a bomb Tinker who required rare resources didn’t afford many opportunities for being an indie hero—who would have thought. Still, the potential was there, and it could even be argued the rarity of the necessity made it all the more special. But no, he hadn’t been satisfied with being a hero those few times it actually mattered, so he had given himself a leg up. A ‘victimless crime,’ his lawyer had argued at trial, and even though Renee and her mother—living proof the crime was not _victimless_ —had attended some of the trial and had been present for the reading of the verdict: a hung jury. It had been an important lesson for her: The only justice, the only _hero_ she could count on was herself.

She felt the urge to scratch at the scar above her left breast. She no longer had the port for her chemo, but its memory lived on, carved into her flesh.

“This next section,” the lawyer woman began to say as she flipped the page, revealing a section titled ‘Branding,’ “ties into your merchandising rights. You’ll be meeting with our PR department later today to discuss possible changes to your image and name to—”

“No,” Renee interjected with vehemence.

The lawyer jolted at the sudden interruption, which Renee supposed was understandable. A glance at the clock on the wall showed it had been two hours since they’d begun, and Renee had not spoken a single word since then. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m sure you heard me quite well,” she said, crossing her arms and fixing the lawyer with a steady, unyielding look.

“Ms. Boudicca, this is a standard agree—”

“Please do not think me some uneducated simpleton you can bamboozle into signing away my rights, Ms. Black.”

“White,” the lawyer corrected before pouring another creamer into her coffee and taking a sip.

 _Why is she talking about her coffee?_ Renee thought in confusion before pressing on. “I am _Boudicca_ , and the only person who can tell me how to dress is myself. You _will_ remove this section, or I will leave.” That was a lie, but the lawyer didn’t know that. Renee wasn’t a lawyer—wasn’t a diplomat like her mother—but she knew how to bluff. She was being forced to join the Protectorate, but that didn’t mean she had to bow to their every whim.

The lawyer considered her for a moment, her coffee cup raised to her lips, then she took another gulp of the caffeinated beverage before setting it aside. “Very well. You’ll probably need to agree to some extra PR events, but I’ll call PR after we’re done with the last of your paperwork and hash that out with them. Shall we proceed?”

Given how unique Renee’s power was, especially the marks it left, she sincerely doubted they could have succeeded in rebranding her, but she still felt better eliminating the chance altogether.

Renee raised objections over a few other points before they were finally, blessedly done. Most notable among them was getting a stipend to cover the initial costs of getting an apartment in the area, since she had precisely zero interest in living on the oil rig. She valued her privacy far too much to stomach living under the constant, watchful eye of the PRT. Calls were made to PR—it seemed they were willing to ‘allow’ her to remain Boudicca, the imperious wankers—then she was promptly whisked away to a boardroom entrance, where she left in the care of a PRT officer stationed outside. Apparently only a small contingency of PRT officers and the Protectorate heroes were housed here. The majority of the PRT and—strangely enough—the Wards were based out of the PRT building in downtown Brockton Bay. The setup baffled her. Her gut instinct would be to house all the heroes on the mainland where they could be more easily deployed and to keep the holding cells for criminals along with the necessary staff and guard to match on the oil rig. But she was willing to withhold judgment until she could figure out _why_ the split had fallen along the lines it had. Regardless of why, it meant her first meeting with Emily Piggot, the director of the PRT East-North-East, would be by conference call.

Five minutes later, she was only just barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the delay. _Of course she would resort to this tactic,_ Renee thought, ruthlessly suppressing the yawn threatening to escape her. It was a classic manipulation technique: Make them wait to send the message your time is more valuable than theirs while making them anxious and putting them on the back foot.

The PRT officer abruptly reached up to tap her ear. “Roger that. Escorting her in now.” She turned her full attention to Renee then stated, rather unnecessarily, “Director Piggot will see you now, Ms. Boudicca.”

“‘Boudicca’ will suffice, thank you,” Renee remarked as she pushed herself to her feet from where she had been leaning against the wall and entered the room as the officer opened the door.

“Boudicca,” Piggot intoned once Renee had closed the door and taken a seat. Renee’s first impression of the woman on the other end of the video feed was unfavorable. She was overweight to the point Renee suspected she had never heard of a crunch much less done one, and her blond hair was styled into what could at best be described as an unflattering bowl cut. “We could bother with the formalities, but I would frankly prefer to cut straight to the point.”

“That’s fine,” Renee allowed.

“Why are you here?”

Renee blinked. “I’m… here to join the Protectorate? Perhaps I’m not understanding the question.”

“Three years,” Piggot intoned, the non-sequitur confusing Boudicca even more. “You’ve been an independent hero for three years. Mildly successful, if one judges by popularity alone. Being one of three heroes in your home city undoubtedly accounts for most of that, but it’s besides the point. You’ve been content in Providence for this long, so _why are you here_?”

 _Well isn’t she just a gem?,_ Renee thought to herself. _Ah, well, this was bound to come up. Just hadn’t expected it quite this soon._ She released a sigh that was only partly affectation. “You’re… aware of what happened this week. Even if one of your heroes hadn’t been involved, you surely would have heard about it.”

“I am.”

“You mentioned popularity as a means of measuring success.” _Feed them their own words, especially their own metrics_. She could almost hear her mother saying the words, see her slowly pacing around the room like a tiger about to descend upon its prey. _You’re not making them agree with you. You’re making them see they already do._ “Despite what your people seem to have told you, my reputation in Providence varies from person to person, and the backlash after this debacle has made it clear it isn’t as… bankable as I’d like.”

“‘Bankable.’” Renee was almost impressed in spite of herself at how much distaste Piggot managed to infuse that one word with. “It hasn’t escaped our notice that your patrolling, though it occasionally fluctuates, is relatively stable.”

“Yes?” _String them along a bit. All fish like live bait. Especially dumb bait._ “That’s true, but I’m not sure I see the relevance?”

Piggot’s eyes narrowed, and Renee made a note to dial the perceived intelligence level up a hair. “This is indicative of an independent hero with a day job.”

“I…” She hesitated and crossed her arms. Classic defensive posture. _Set the lure. I have something to hide, see? It’s right there._ “Well, yes, I know there are some independent heroes out there who can pull it off full-time, but I’ve never been ab—” _Brief pause for effect._ “I suppose that was telling.” Another sigh. Mostly affectation this time. “I… Ah fucking hell, you’ll just figure it out anyway. Can’t exactly keep it secret when I’ve gotta tell you who I am, right?”

“I hardly see how unmasking is an answer to my question,” Piggot said with obvious irritation as Renee undid the buckles on the twin leather straps wrapping under her chin to secure her helmet in place. “What point are you trying to make, Boudicca?” Renee lifted the helmet away, and her opinion of Piggot rose when the director’s only reaction was to clinically note, “I see. Cancer, I presume? Your interest is in the medical benefits?”

“Not quite, but I could see why you would think that,” Renee corrected as she set aside the helmet, careful to lay it on its side in order to not cause a bend in the wig hair built into it. “Brain cancer, yes, but when I was younger. Most people’s hair grows back after chemo. I was just… unlucky. But you said you prefer to cut the fat, so I’ll… be blunt for you.” _Show her you have similarities—that you can play ball. Then let them take the bait. Give up the information you’re ‘protecting,’ that you always planned to concede._ “What I care about is my legacy. I don’t… I don’t want to be _forgotten_. I don’t want to be here. I would much rather handle things myself, but I’ve seen the signs, and what happened with that Meteor kid—well, that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m not making progress. Worse, I’m regressing. I need the visibility being in the Protectorate provides, the assistance from the PR team in getting my name out there… _That_ is why I am here.” _After that, you’re done—they’ll never look deeper. After all…_

_They’ve ‘won.’_

Renee mastered the urge to smirk when Piggot sat back from where she had been leaning forward onto her desk. Everybody’s tells were different, but she had shifted out of an actively confrontational posture. Odds were, she had convinced the director. For now, at least. “I see. I really have no interest in the hassle of bringing in a known cape like you while negative PR is still clinging to you, but I regrettably need all the capes on our side we can get. The Empire alone outnumbers us, even if we count the Wards, and god knows I get enough shit on my plate from the Youth Guard as it is without actively sending an eleven-year-old girl out to fight a villain whose power is turning into a mass of twisting blades and hooks.”

“You won’t regret it, Director.”

“See that I don’t.”

The meeting finished up shortly after, and after securing her helmet in place once more, she followed the guard outside the room deeper into the oil rig. They reached a sealed door, and the guard tapped his ID badge against the plate next to the handle before leaning forward to let his eye be scanned. An alarm sounded beyond the door, and the guard remarked, “Gives everyone a chance to mask up. Someone from IT will be by later to get you set up for entry.”

Renee nodded, but her focus was on the door as it slid open—more specifically, the capes beyond. She easily recognized Assault from personal experience, and Battery, Miss Militia, and Dauntless were readily identified by costume and reputation. The other gentleman present took her a second longer to place. He was dressed in a red bodysuit featuring racing stripes and a ‘V’ on his chest, and though the outfit clearly broadcast ‘speedster,’ it took her a moment to place his name—Velocity, if she wasn’t mistaken. That meant the Protectorate’s leader, Armsmaster, wasn’t present. All of them were facing the door expectantly, and Renee detected a hint of annoyance in the set of Battery’s jaw. If the rumors were true that she and Assault were an item, then Renee could imagine a couple of reasons why the woman might not be thrilled to see her.

“You must be Boudicca,” Miss Militia greeted as she approached and shook Renee’s hand. Her grip was firm but clearly not an ill advised attempt at showboating. She directed a nod towards the officer. “I’ll take her off your hands.” The officer saluted and departed, and once the door slid closed, Militia’s eyes crinkled slightly, suggesting she was smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. How was the trip up?”

“It was fine. Just to get us past the rest of the awkward ‘just met banter’: I have no opinion regarding the weather, I _do_ in fact like long walks on the beach, and how ‘bout them Yankees?”

Militia and Assault both laughed, and Battery’s expression pinched somewhat, but it was Velocity who spoke up first—fitting, given his powers. “Huh, I hadn’t realized you weren’t American. I can’t quite place the accent. Where are you from?”

“Britain, but I’m a naturalized citizen, much to my mother’s chagrin,” Renee confirmed. She tossed a nod at Assault. “Got you all fixed up then? You were looking a bit worse for wear when we parted ways. Never seen a man get beaten so badly.”

He laughed and replied with a grin, “Your eyes weren’t much better, as I recall. Must be nice to be able to actually have the power to punch things until you feel better.”

“Bloody amazing is what it is,” she confirmed with a matching grin. It was nice to see he was seemingly still quite agreeable to be around. _Perhaps this won’t_ all _be such a bag of shite. Still, better head off this Battery problem ASAP._ Renee stepped forward and held out her hand to Battery. “And you must be Battery. Assault wouldn’t stop yapping about you and how great you are. If even half of what he said is based on fact, then you must be the second coming of Jesus.”

Battery tossed her partner a look that quite clearly expressed disbelief despite her visor obscuring half of her face. “I can’t turn my back on you for a second, can I?”

“Never,” Assault agreed with a very emphatic nod. He glanced at the rest of the team, shrugged, then deftly removed his visor after a few seconds’ fiddling with it. “You escaped that hell they call ‘paperwork,’ yeah? I don’t see any sense in waiting. Name’s Ethan.”

He glanced at Battery, who through simple movement of her head and stance once again easily conveyed the action of rolling her eyes despite her visor. She reached up and detached her own visor. “Blair.”

The pair’s reveal prompted the Militia, Dauntless, and Velocity to unmask and respectively declare themselves to be Hannah, Shawn, and Robin. Eventually, only Renee was left, and despite her cavalier attitude towards revealing herself to Piggot, she found herself somewhat anxious regarding how the assembled capes would react. Her life had all gone to cock the moment she opened the letter sealing her fate, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to do her damnedest to make lemonade out of lemons. She carefully undid the straps of her helmet and pulled it free, and to the group’s credit, only Velocity visibly reacted by leaning closer as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Forcing her voice to be steady, she said, “Renee. I’ll just head off the question: Cancer when I was a kid, and yes I’m all better.”

The group’s attention was diverted a moment later by the door sliding open to reveal Armsmaster, though he was only wearing the helmet of his midnight-blue tinkertech armor, which left his well trimmed beard visible, and a matching gauntlet. He paused momentarily on seeing Renee then nodded, seemingly to himself, before stepping fully inside. The door slid shut behind him, and he reached up and removed his helmet, revealing closely cropped brown hair that matched the shade of his beard. “Colin. Good to have you aboard, Boudicca.”

“Renee,” she said, so he wouldn’t be the only person in the room who didn’t know her name.

“Noted,” he said, already in motion towards the conference room adjoining the heroes’ lounge.

Renee raised an eyebrow at his behavior, and Assault— _Ethan_ , Renee reminded herself—whispered, “Don’t take it personally. If he could participate in these meetings from his lab, he probably would. He only emerges from his lair for mandatory meetings and patrols.”

“ _Ethan_ ,” Blair hissed at him.

“Too right, puppy,” he said, nodding sagely. Renee could only assume ‘puppy’ was some sort of in-joke or pet name. “I forgot to mention he also leaves to howl at the full moon. It’s so easy to forget that one.”

Renee chuckled as they all moved to follow Colin into the conference room. She hadn’t noticed the time, but sure enough, there was only a minute left before the minute hand would strike four. Blair somewhat indiscreetly pushed Ethan towards a chair that would allow her to sit between Renee and Ethan, but Renee sagely ignored it. She was content to let the other hero mark her territory if it would make for smooth sailing. Before long, the scowling visage of Emily Piggot was projected on the screen, and the irritable director wasted no time with pleasantries.

“As you all know, the purpose of this meeting is to discuss the actions of Faultline and her crew this past Sunday as well as to compile all details we have about their newest capes. This has been some time in coming, as we have been waiting on our newest recruit’s enrollment. We’re hoping you can provide us some valuable insight, Boudicca, as you and Assault were present for the confrontation.”

 _Putting me on the spot right out of the gate_ , Renee thought as she suppressed a smirk. _It’s in keeping with my read on you, at least._ “Where would you like me to begin?”

“The goal behind their attack.”

Renee nodded. “Based on where their attention was focused during the encounter and how unprepared they were for Loki’s presence, I think it’s safe to surmise they weren’t there for her. All communications between their team that I heard were either about the fight or otherwise about Canary. If it’s true that Faultline’s crew is based out of Brockton Bay, then I’m sure you’re all more familiar with them than I am, but if I had to guess, I would speculate they were trying to free Canary on the basis of being a ‘monster’ cape.”

“We considered that, but based on subsequent communications with one of their newer members, Meteor, on Sunday, we have tentatively ruled that reasoning out,” Armsmaster commented.

“The hospital thing, yeah?” Renee had skimmed the PHO thread about Faultline’s crew paying a hospital a visit, but she hadn’t had a chance to watch the recorded confrontation between Meteor and Militia. She had been surprised to find public opinion seemingly divided about the encounter, with some people still siding with the mercenaries despite the PRT denouncing them for the alleged attack on a hospital. Others had pointed out it was perfectly reasonable for Meteor to seek medical attention for her injuries, and many people had decried the PRT officers opening fire with live weapons in the emergency room when civilians were present.

“Correct. I’ve been working on a lie detector, and though it’s still in preliminary stages, its analysis of Meteor’s admission they were hired is that the statement is true, which lines up with Miss Militia’s observations from debrief.”

 _A lie detector? Fucking hell,_ Renee thought, only just barely taking note that Colin had called Hannah ‘Miss Militia’ instead of ‘Hannah.’ Everyone on the call knew who was who, and they were all unmasked. Professional distance, perhaps? She couldn’t begin to speculate, distracted as she was by what a _disaster_ her conversation with Piggot would become if— _when_ , really—Piggot asked him to examine it with his technology. Hoping his technology wouldn’t pass muster was a fool’s errand. It was better to plan for the likely fallout and to avoid all further lies. Everything needed to be the truth as much as possible, omissions only where strictly necessary.

She had already burned the letter, so at least there was that.

“—further information,” Colin was saying as Renee returned her attention to the meeting in full, “we can only speculate on who hired Faultline, much less their intent in doing so. Our attempts to trace the van Faultline’s crew used for transportation didn’t yield any fruit despite Dragon dedicating some of her resources to monitoring traffic cameras. We’re slowly branching out to nearby cities, but again, so far no results.”

“I want an update as soon as you have anything,” Piggot said, quite unnecessarily in Renee’s opinion. “Moving on to analysis of the new capes, beginning with the one identifying as ‘Meteor.’ Boudicca?”

Renee carefully suppressed the urge to tell the woman where she could shove her attempts at intimidation. “The popular speculation online is she is a Tinker—”

“I’m not asking for what the public thinks, Boudicca,” Piggot interrupted.

“I was getting there, _director_ ,” Renee rejoined, silently berating herself for letting her control over her ire slip even that much. “Based on my personal observations, however, I would argue she is _not_ a Tinker.”

 _That_ got interest out of the director as well as the rest of the table. “Explain,” Piggot curtly demanded.

“I had the opportunity to discuss what happened with Rubicon yesterday after running into him on patrol, and we both agreed that although Meteor made frequent use of gestures throughout the fight, we both noticed moments where she seemed to be controlling her ‘equipment’—” Renee curled her fingers in the timeless gesture known as air quotes “—without any visible gestures.”

Colin frowned. “There could be other justifications for that. Failsafes put in place to ensure set actions occur under certain circumstances. Micro gestures or subvocal commands. Some of my own gear uses those. It’s also true that many capes hold back on what they can do in most situations in order to keep an ace up their sleeve.”

“Perhaps,” Renee allowed, “but my gut tells me the kid’s not a Tinker.”

“Your gut, hm?” Piggot drawled.

“You can scoff at it if you want,” Renee replied, “but you asked for my opinion, and my opinion is Meteor is a Shaker, not a Tinker. I don’t know the PRT’s system well enough to speculate about power levels or any of that rot, so I’ll leave that to you lot.”

“Hey, that rhymed,” Ethan stage whispered with a grin, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Blair. He feigned as if he was hurt, but Renee didn’t doubt for a second that he had just dispersed the kinetic energy.

“Setting aside for the moment the method of control, Meteor’s MO seems to be using metal balls the size of ball bearings,” Hannah said, picking up the analysis torch. “She also clearly demonstrated the ability to control metal in her vicinity. Minimum range is fifteen yards based on the distance between her and the furthest PRT officers in the ER when she commandeered their containment foam dispensers.”

“Range is definitely further than that,” Ethan supplied. “I saw her lift Canary from easily double that distance in Providence. She also controlled a ton of those balls when she was fighting in Providence, but she seemed to mostly direct them all at once. She might not be able to do lots of little, different things at the same time.

Hannah spoke up again with a frown, her eyes quite expressive even with her mask gone, “Her control includes manipulation of the metal in relation to its environment and also manipulation of the metal’s shape. She melted bullets fired by the three PRT officers after I was incapacitated by Newter. That she can stop a bullet also means she can assert control very quickly.”

Shawn jumped in next. “She used metal as a shield when we fought in the garage. She formed it on the spot and was able to completely deflect my strike. It was like I was striking a solid wall instead of something being held.” He sighed before adding. “And she seemed to be able to manipulate my gear, though after watching video of her earlier fights, it didn’t seem like she had very good control over them. Just enough to throw me off, not to actively seize control.”

 _They should already know this, but I suppose it doesn’t hurt to bring up_. “She escaped because I made the mistake of thinking she only uses the ball bearings,” Renee said, rejoining the analysis. “She flung a ball containing a form of pepper spray at me and released the spray when I tried to knock it aside.”

“Sounds like tinkertech,” Colin noted. There wasn’t any condescension in his voice, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Renee didn’t know him nearly well enough to judge. “Faultline is known to use similar items. Perhaps she gave Meteor the idea?”

“Or perhaps she gave Meteor the idea of obscuring she’s a shaker,” Renee countered. “Like you said, some capes hold back on what they can really do.”

Colin nodded, a considering look in his eyes. “Fair. Gallant and I have a meeting with Faultline and Meteor tomorrow at Fugly Bob’s. I could try bringing up some topics that only Tinkers would really be able to follow and have Gallant watch her emotions.”

“Fugly Bob’s? Gallant?”

“Gallant is one of our Wards,” Hannah explained when it became apparent Colin was distracted—perhaps busy thinking through what tests he might administer. “He uses tinker power armor as a costume, but his power is in fact emotion sensing and energy blasts that can impose a preset emotion and impact with minor kinetic force. As for Fugly Bob’s, it’s a popular local fast food place known for American cuisine.”

Her response answered some of Renee’s questions, but she was still confused by one matter in particular. “And _why_ is this meeting happening?”

Hannah looked to Shawn, whose face was twisting slightly with repressed anger or frustration. It was Piggot, however, who responded. “They stole Dauntless’ empowered boots and bargained their return in exchange for us allowing them to leave Bayside. Your colleagues can fill you in on the details later. For now, does anyone have anything else to add regarding our assessment of Meteor?” When nobody said anything further, she resumed speaking. “Then I am tentatively assigning Meteor a Tinker 4 rating pending Armsmaster and Gallant’s assessment of her tomorrow. I’m further adding Mover 3, Blaster 3, and Shaker 4 ratings, based on the demonstrated abilities, tinkertech-based or no.

“Now, moving on to Shade. What information do we have?”

“Copies powers and appearances, but she seems to have limitations,” Renee replied. “Perhaps more importantly, they seem to get skills and maybe even knowledge as well.”

The air in the room palpably shifted with that declaration. “Explain,” Piggot once more demanded of her.

“They copied me while we were fighting, and I saw a lot of my style in the way they fought. It wasn’t a perfect match, so I’d guess it was a mix with their own fighting style.”

“Stranger 6,” Piggot declared immediately. “Miss Militia, it’s possible you encountered Shade in the ER, so report to IT after this meeting for assistance with your clearances being reset. Until we can ascertain whether Shade gets and keeps knowledge from those they copy, all interaction with them is to be strictly limited. Is this understood?”

A chorus of assents echoed around the table. “As for the limitations,” Renee resumed, “Shade swapped at several points between copying myself, Ethan, and… Gregor the Snail, I believe he’s called? Anyway, they took all of those forms and used copied powers, but they never stayed in one form for long. There were several points when Shade became someone for just long enough to use a power before moving on to a different form. Even when they did use a power more, they never used it for longer than, say, half a minute.

“They also fought as Faultline,” Ethan commented, joining in. “In fact, they were probably Faultline the most, but they never used her power that I noticed.”

“Agreed. It’s also worth noting their change isn’t instant or non-obvious. It takes them a second or two to change, and their body takes on a shadowy appearance during that change.”

“You’re both avoiding saying ‘he’ or ‘she,’” Blair remarked. “Do we know what the real Shade looks like? Did either of you see Shade as anybody _but_ someone else at the fight? If so, we may know what their base form’s appearance is. If not… this is just speculation based on Shade being a member of Faultline’s crew, but perhaps Shade is a case-53 who can only be other people?”

Colin frowned as he typed away on a pad on his tinkertech gauntlet. “Possible, but I would avoid speculation. Although the presence of Newter and Gregor the Snail in Faultline’s crew does indicate a possible predisposition to recruiting case-53, neither Faultline nor Labyrinth are case-53 capes, and by all appearances, Meteor is not either.”

He paused momentarily before asking, “Does anyone have further information to add?” When nobody else said anything, he continued, “To summarize then: Shade can copy appearances and powers, we have reason to suspect they can copy skills or possibly knowledge, we do not know what Shade’s primary form is or whether there is one, copying someone takes up to two seconds and is a visible process involving shadows, and Shade’s use of powers may have limitations such as number of uses, length of usage, etc. Stranger 6, as Director Piggot indicated, and based on our information, I would suggest Trump and Breaker ratings as well.”

“You wouldn’t give her ratings in everything?” Renee asked, somewhat confused. “She could in theory copy any power.”

“The Trump rating would cover that. The suggestion of a Breaker rating is because she changes into shadows that reform as someone else, and the Changer rating is because her Breaker form changes her into someone else.”

Renee nodded but secretly was a bit thrown. I hadn’t realized this much thought went into ratings…

“I agree with those suggestions,” Piggot acknowledged. “I’m assigning her a Breaker/Changer 2 rating with subratings of Stranger 6 and a tentative Trump 5, pending confirmations of what limits, if any, Shade has. Miss Militia, report to IT. Battery, show Boudicca the ropes while Miss Militia is indisposed. Dismissed.”

The call ended, and Blair only just barely concealed her irritation when she turned to face Renee. “Right, c’mon then, lots to do.”

Renee swallowed the sigh that threatened to escape her as Ethan began to badger Blair about letting him help too, which seemed to be worsening her mood. _Well at least the Sword of Damocles isn’t hanging over me anymore._

_I hope the ‘favor’ is worth it._

* * *

Paige startled somewhat at the sound of the van’s side door opening and managed to open her sleepy eyes just in time to catch Faultline slipping out. She couldn’t quite believe that she had fallen asleep, but she _was_ very tired. The prison guards who had prepared her for transport that morning had woken her up far, far earlier than necessary, taking sadistic glee in leaving her drained and weary for her intended transfer to Boston. The backseat of her latest accommodations was actually quite comfortable, and though her bindings made her posture awkward at best, she had nevertheless found herself slumping into the chair and resting her head on the top of the seat.

“What took you all so long?” Faultline demanded, her voice somewhat muffled by the van but still audible. “You were evasive on the phone.”

“Things didn’t quite go according to plan,” someone replied. Paige vaguely recalled her voice from earlier when they had first arrived at the hospital. The others had referred to her as Meteor’s cousin, if she remembered correctly. _Did they avoid saying her name, or did I just forget it?_

“Meteor’s arm is repaired, so at least the main thrust of the plan was accomplished. What went awry?”

“Unexpected guest,” another voice jumped in. This one Paige more readily identified as Shade, the shapeshifter. “You might have heard of her. Calls herself Panacea?”

“Please tell me you didn’t harm Panacea,” was Faultline’s immediate response.

“Nothing like that,” Meteor’s cousin was quick to reassure. “She actually… Well the short explanation is she wanted Shade to do her a favor. In exchange she healed Meteor and… um…”

“She gave me what I wanted.”

Paige blinked. Was that Meteor? Before she had landed her first record deal, Paige had recorded and mixed all of her own music, so her ears were accustomed to catching subtle differences in timbre and resonance. The team’s Tinker sounded like someone had equalized her on a mixing board. It wasn’t really a good or bad difference. Her voice was just… different.

Faultline was seemingly shocked into silence, if her lack of response was any indication, but in the van, Newter turned to Gregor with obvious confusion. “Uh. She wanted long hair?”

“It is her story to tell,” the large man quietly replied, leaving the orange boy even more confused.

Labyrinth, meanwhile, tilted her head as if perplexed but said nothing. Paige still didn’t know what to make of her. Initially she had suspected the girl was mute, since her teammates had spoken to her once or twice on the drive up from Providence with no vocal response in kind, but she also had not responded with simple body gestures like nodding or shaking her head. Her outfit clearly marked her as a cape, but how could anybody properly interact with her if she was completely unresponsive?

“I see,” Faultline eventually responded, breaking the silence that had descended over everyone. “And what was this… favor she asked of Shade?”

The cousin laughed somewhat nervously. “She asked us not to tell any—”

“She wanted to bone her sister,” interrupted Shade, eliciting an indignant cry from the cousin, “but she also _didn’t_ want to bone her sister, so she was like, ‘Help me Obi-Wan Shade-obi, you’re my only hope of cockblocking myself!’ Wait, is there a girl version of cockblock?”

“Pretty sure it’s ‘clamjam,’” replied the voice Paige was tentatively labeling as Meteor. “The fuck is ‘Obi-Wan Shade-obi’?”

“Clamjam? I fucking love it!” she responded with a cackle. “And it’s a Star Wars reference. You’ll get it after movie night, which is happening _ASAP_ ‘cause it’s a goddamn crime you haven’t seen Star Wars. A _goddamn crime_.”

“Don’t get distracted,” Faultline said. “We need to get moving, but before we do, I need you to clarify about this favor Panacea wanted. You said she felt an… attraction for her sister and wanted Shade to remove it, but that does not line up with public understanding of Panacea’s power. How does she expect this favor to be carried out?”

“Don’t say it in front of your p-prisoner,” the cousin hastily said. “She threatened to leak our names if word got out, remember? But don’t worry. The favor’s already done.”

“I see. Then say nothing,” Faultline ordered. “We will discuss that on the ride back after we drop off Mcabee. You and Shade should put on these masks for now, and Meteor, you should pull yourself back up. Once everyone’s ready, let’s move.”

Faultline and the cousin, who was now wearing a pale blue surgical mask that hooked around her ears, climbed in and took the row closest to the front. Paige did a double take when Meteor climbed in and the van’s overhead light illuminated her. As Newter’s earlier comment had indicated, her dark brown hair was much longer now and probably reached all the way down to past her shoulder blades, but there was definitely more to the changes than just that. Her healed arm was no surprise, since that was the entire point of going to the hospital. Paige was actually grateful it was repaired, since it had been nauseating to see the bone jutting out of her arm. But beyond that, her proportions were different. If someone had pressed Paige to describe _how_ they were different, then she wouldn’t have quite known how to describe it other than ‘abrupt puberty.’ Before she had left the van, she had the fledgling beginnings of curves, and while ‘curvy’ certainly still wasn’t a descriptor Paige would use in reference to her, she definitely had more defined feminine features now.

Paige wasn’t the only one who noticed. Meteor had steered herself to the row where Labyrinth was, Shade hot on her heels with her own surgical mask after sliding the door shut, and Labyrinth immediately reached out and began to card her fingers through some of Meteor’s hair, drawing a nervous giggle from the girl. “Yeah, Labyrinth, I got an upgrade. You like?”

Labyrinth didn’t respond vocally—Paige was frankly shocked she had even done as much as she had—but she kept bringing her hand back up to run through the other girl’s hair, and that was apparently answer enough. Newter, meanwhile, whistled as he craned his neck to look past Faultline and Meteor’s cousin. “Wow, I hadn’t really considered whether Panacea could do that, but I suppose that makes sense.”

For some reason his words made Meteor tense up. “Right. I… I should tell you and Labyrinth.”

“Tell me what?”

“Not yet,” Faultline cut in. “We need to get moving, Meteor, so please wait until we’re back on the road outside the city. Gregor will drive then, and it will no longer matter if you get… distracted.”

“Sure sure,” Meteor replied, sounding almost relieved. The overhead light had turned off when the side door had been closed, which made it somewhat difficult to see in the dark interior of the van, but Meteor was close enough to Paige that she could make out the girl raising her hand to her mouth. The girl then made a ‘pssh’ sound and intoned, “Gregor Control, this is the S. S. Meteor’s Awesome requesting permission for takeoff, over?”

The driver chuckled. “I believe ‘S. S.’ is for ships, not planes, no?”

Another ‘pssh.’ “Gregor Control, I can name my aircraft whatever I please. Also, this is not a plane, so your argument is invalid anyway, over.”

“ _Meteor_.”

 _Another_ ‘pssh,’ this time from Newter up in the front, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Sounds like trouble, S. S. Meteor’s Awesome. Go go go! Take to the skies before a fault line opens up and swallows your craft, over!”

Faultline was turning around in her seat at this point, and Paige was certain there was a look of ire on her face underneath that welder’s mask. Meteor took the hint, if the van lifting into the air and soaring forward was any indication, and Paige pointedly kept her eyes firmly on the back of the seat in front of her. When they had lifted off from the garage earlier in the evening, she had made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder out the back window. Thankfully, she had managed to suppress the nausea that had welled up in her. She had _no_ desire to find out what would happen if she hurled while her mouth was still bound up.

The van was silent initially, but Newter and Shade quickly took up the mantle of filling the silence with a mixture of jokes, pop culture references, and the occasional comment laden with vague, or in Shade’s case not so vague, innuendo. One such comment from the shapeshifter—“She told me I needed to stop saying such disgusting things, and I told her, ‘I’ve tried, but it’s hard— _so hard_!’”—caused Meteor to burst into laughter, which was accompanied by the van jostling ominously for a half second after a brief loss of control. Faultline ordered immediate silence for the remaining couple minutes it took the Tinker to finish flying them out of the city and set them down on a country road. The exit onto the freeway going north laid just a bit further down the road.

Meteor brought her hand back to her mouth and made a ‘pssh’ sound yet again because apparently she was not going to be so easily deterred. “Gregor Control, the S. S. Meteor’s Awesome has landed. Yielding control now, over.”

“Twenty laps when we get back home,” Faultline flatly declared as the van began to roll forward under Gregor’s direction.

“Wha— Come on! Why?!”

“Because ‘she said so,’ duh,” Newter remarked from the front, grinning over his shoulder at her.

“You’ll be joining her.”

“Worth it,” he easily replied, his grin never wavering. “So Meteor, now that the S. S. Meteor’s Awesome has landed, what’s the deets with what Panacea did to you?”

“Right,” she replied, nervousness leaking into her voice. “That.”

“Hang on a sec,” Shade cut in before twisting around to look at Paige. She began to change, and despite the darkness of the van, Paige had no trouble recognizing the bold colors of her own yellow hair and its yellow and green feathers. Paige’s eyes widened in expectation, and she shrank away.

“ _Shade_.”

Shade huffed and reverted to her own form once again. “We’ve only known each other for a day, boss, but I can tell you’re gonna do your damnedest to suck the fun outta everything.”

“Stopping you from causing a disaster is not sucking the fun out of everything,” the older woman easily retorted. “I know I told you this morning that her power works on groups. Did it not occur to you that you might master everyone else in the van while you set about casually mastering Mcabee?”

Shade grunted before jabbing a finger at Paige, who flinched away. “Don’t go spreading what you’re about to hear around, or I will find a suitable power to copy and make you _regret it_.”

Paige nodded as frantically as she could in her bindings. Shade stared her down a few seconds longer before finally turning away from her and nudging Meteor.

The other girl anxiously cleared her throat. “So, um, Newter? Labyrinth? I… Um, see, I wanted to tell you, but I was waiting for the… right moment, I guess? Like, Gregor only knows because I got outed at— Oh hell, what do I call you, since we’re being all covert? You’re not a cape, so it’s not like you have a cape name.”

“Just call me ‘M’ for now, I guess?” the cousin supplied, sounding unsure herself.

“Whatever. Sure. _Anyway_ , the only reason Gregor knows is because I got outed at M’s place, and Faultline only knows because Gregor told her, and Shade—”

“Dude, Meteor,” Newter said, interrupting her nervous rambling. “Other people heard it first because reasons—I get it, and I’m sure Labyrinth does too. Please just get to the actual reveal before you leave us more confused.”

“Fuck, you’re right, sorry, I just… _Ugh_ , okay, I’m transgender. Or I was? Huh… Panacea happened, so it’s kinda confusing now. Um… _Yeah._ ”

 _Oh_ , Paige thought, caught off guard by the cape’s admission. _Really? And Panacea…?_

"Woah, really?" Newter remarked with a hint of awe in his voice. "Jesus, that sounds like a lot of work."

“Yeah.” A pregnant pause hung in the air for a moment. “So, you’re… You’re okay? We’re cool?”

Labyrinth, who best as Paige could tell had yet to stop playing with Meteor’s hair, laid her head down on the other girl’s shoulder. The message was clear.

Up front, Newter replied, “Well sure? You certainly aren’t going to hear any complaints from _me_ about changing your body to be more comfortable.”

And that was that, apparently. Shade resumed making lewd jokes, which elicited somewhat watery laughter from Meteor, who must have been crying too quietly for Paige to hear. Labyrinth’s head stayed firmly planted on Meteor’s shoulder, and the rest of the van began quietly talking about this or that topic. And sitting there, alone in the back, Paige found herself feeling jealous. Not of the other girl’s struggles—not that. Paige didn’t know any trans people personally, but she had watched a queer friend wade through a mountain of shit when he came out to his family. She could only imagine what Meteor might have gone through. No, it was the easy acceptance she was jealous of. One explanation, and just like that, the rest of the team was all smiles and friendly touches.

Paige could still remember her father’s reaction when she had first visited him after getting her powers. He’d had a tinge of sadness ever since her mother had died, and Paige had excitedly sung for him, showing him how she could affect him, make him _feel good again_. Then she asked him a question. One simple question. “So, what do you think of the new me?” Still high on the sweet feelings her song had put in him, her father had replied with a smile on his face, “You’re like the Simurgh.” 

In an instant, all her happiness and excitement about her newly acquired power vanished. Even though she had been a little kid at the time, she still remembered the horror filled news reports when the experts figured out exactly what her scream did. One little nudge guided by perfect precognition to put the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time, triggering appalling chains of events that seemed to just ripple and go on and on. The only thing that could be done was wall in all of the affected. Never in her wildest dreams had she considered her own family might compare her to that _monster_. It had taken her over a year and her father’s repeated reassurances to stop plucking her feathers. The world had already had seven walled off cities, seven gravestones for the dead hopes and dreams of the affected people trapped within—it hadn’t needed another reminder of the first slain Endbringer.

 _I could sing,_ she thought as she simmered in her jealousy and listened to the casual chatter in the van. _Make them reveal what they really feel beneath all of their smiles, laughs, and kind words… Oh god, what am I thinking? I can’t believe that thought even occurred to me!_ Horrified by the ugly direction her thoughts had taken, she twisted back and down until she could rest her head on the top of the seat again. Rest. She needed rest.

Unfortunately, Paige didn’t manage to fall asleep again despite the weariness that suffused her. They stopped for gas once along the way, and some time after that, Meteor lifted the van again and flew them on a detour over the Northern end of Lake Champlain, enabling them to cross the Canadian border without an inspection. By that point it was very, very late, and Labyrinth had fallen asleep on Meteor’s shoulder, prompting the Tinker to follow suit not long after gently laying her head atop the other girl’s platinum hair. After about an hour’s drive further, Gregor finally pulled off of the highway again. They had reached Montreal. Neither of the sleeping teens stirred, and Shade appeared to be not far off from joining them if her yawns were any indication.

A few minutes later, Faultline quietly announced, “That alley there, Gregor, the one with the mural at the end.” He carefully slowed down and turned the van into the indicated alleyway, traveling perhaps ten to fifteen yards in before gradually coming to a stop. Faultline stood and slipped past ‘M’ to open the side door, which prompted the overhead light to turn on and most of the occupants of the van to groan at the abrupt shift in lighting. “Meteor, help me get Mcabee out of the van.”

“Sure, sure,” the teen drowsily replied as she stifled a yawn. Paige instinctively flinched away from the tiny metal pellets that swarmed out of the backpack on the seat next to her, but in short order, she was cocooned in large swaths of them and being floated horizontally out of the van with surprising effectiveness despite the other girl’s sleepy demeanor.

“This is where we leave you, Ms. Mcabee,” Faultline quietly announced once Meteor had deposited Paige on her feet outside the van. “For what it’s worth, I _do_ apologize for the significant delays in getting here and removing your bonds.”

Paige’s eyes widened. _Wait. They’re—?_

“Yes, you heard me correctly,” Faultline continued, clearly having correctly interpreted Paige’s unspoken question. “My original plan had been to remove all of your bonds except for those over your mouth before leaving. With your hands unshackled, I’m confident you would be able to free yourself the rest of the way in short order. However, with Shade’s… recent addition to our lineup, we have an additional option at our disposal. If you consent to it, Shade could master you to allow us to leave safely before removing the last of your restraints herself. I leave the decision in your hands. Blink once for the original plan, twice for the latter.”

Paige carefully and pointedly blinked once. Twice in her life she had seen the awful things her power could do if used carelessly, and she had seen more than enough of the other girl to know she did _not_ want her own power turned on her by Shade.

Faultline nodded. “Yes, I had expected as much.” She paused for a moment before adding, “I confess I don’t know why our employer wanted you brought here, Ms. Mcabee. I will say we have our standards, and I would not have accepted bringing you so far from your home had I any suspicion the location was chosen with ill intent. Please accept my assurances that I have never known him to be a malicious man.”

“You never did say who hired us,” Meteor sleepily grumbled as she tried—and this time failed—to stifle another yawn.

“I’ll tell you on the ride back,” Faultline assured, a hint of a smile in her words. “I’ve said all I can on the matter in front of Ms. Mcabee. Now, please remove her hand restraints, and we’ll be on our way.”

If Paige hadn’t been inside of a flying van twice already, then she might have been shocked by the bulky, conjoined arm bands holding her hands behind her back unlocking themselves. Even still, the heavy _clunk_ of them hitting the ground behind her made her instinctively jump, prompting an embarrassed Meteor to apologize, “My bad, it’s been a long day. Like Faultline said, sorry we had to leave those on the whole way. I’ve been handcuffed before, but never for that long. It had to have sucked.”

Paige rubbed at her sore wrists, her skin having chaffed in several spots from the metal rubbing abrasively against her. She didn’t know how to respond to Meteor’s admission, but fortunately for her, she couldn’t say anything right then anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

“Goodbye, Paige Mcabee,” Faultline said with a nod. “Best of luck to you.” The two of them climbed back into the van, and she watched the vehicle pull away as she fumbled blindly with the latches holding her leather, reinforced mask in place.

It took her several, long minutes to finally undo everything and pull the mask free. _Thank god I never made it to Boston,_ she thought, remembering the guards’ gleeful descriptions of the mask the PRT had designed in anticipation of her transfer. Apparently it would have extended into her mouth in order to forcefully hold her jaw open and her tongue down, the intent being to prevent her from singing or even talking. She tugged out the wad of cotton that Providence PD had kept in her mouth for weeks while feeding her by a tube in her stomach. Immediately she coughed, and it took her body a minute before it began to adjust and settle down from what had become the norm.

“I can talk?” she whispered, her voice croaky and cracking over the words. It was quite possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. Tears began to well in her eyes, and by instinct she started to quash them before remembering she didn’t have to anymore. There were no more guards to taunt and torment her, to remind her over and over of the second big mistake she had made with her power. All of her emotions, bottled up and buried deep within her—all of it broke free, and she sobbed. It wasn’t so much tears as rivers that carved their way down her face as she basked in it all. She could talk again. She could feel again. She could _live again_.

Paige wasn’t sure how long she sat there crying, but nobody came along to interrupt her, and eventually she stumbled her way down the alleyway towards the mural the van had passed earlier. Glancing up at it curiously and wiping at her watery eyes, she froze when she properly saw what it was for the first time. A sad, muzzled _canary_ with the word ‘bad’ in block letters emblazoned across its chest. The poor bird seemed to be looking at her with its expertly painted eyes that seemed to stare right through her soul. The door to its cage hung open, a key still slotted into it and painted onto the building at the perfect height to be at eye level. In elegant script painted onto the key’s handle was a message: “Only you can stop him. Be a hero.”

Paige felt a chill run down her spine as she read those last three words. Faultline had said a man hired them to free her, but Paige now knew either the mercenary had lied to her or been hired by proxy.

They had been hired by Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to make a massive shout-out to RoyalJelly, who crammed in a beta read of scene 1 before going on a hot date, and to Juff on the Cauldron discord, who provided lots of invaluable feedback while proofreading my work with zero context in the middle of the night. These two made this chapter happen on 'time' (shut up, it's totally still 'Friday,' I swear).
> 
> There will be no post next Friday as I take a week off to prep Arc 3 and (hopefully) build up a buffer of at least one chapter (preferably two).
> 
> Regarding my personal life... The hospital denied our request to allow me to stay after post-op recovery, so we made the tough decision to cancel the surgery. My partner and I had serious concerns they may accidentally hurt themself when (not if) their PTSD struck (they've freaked out and pulled out IVs in the past), and that is 100% not what we want to happen when they have a sensor going into their brain. We have one remaining good option to pursue, so wish us luck...


	17. Bell 3.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Notes of more substance at the end of the chapter, my lovelies.

A knock on the door of my shared room with Elle woke me up the following morning, and more knocks on said door followed as I sluggishly dragged myself out of my warm, comfy bed to make my way over. By the time my hand gripped the knob and twisted, the person on the other side had begun knocking in a continuous beat that failed to conform to any sort of recognizable pattern.

I yanked open the door and glared blearily at the vile scoundrel who had dared to wake me. Aisha answered in kind with a cheery smile and a mischievous glint in her eyes that clearly expressed exactly how much enjoyment she was getting out of this horrible, awful crime.

“It is—” I paused briefly when I realized I didn’t actually know what time it was then forged ahead anyway. “Too early to be awake.”

One of her eyebrows rose challengingly. “It’s quarter to two.”

“We got back at, like, five in the goddamn morning.” I tried to close the door, but she put her shoe in the way.

“You slept with Elle on the ride back.”

“I do not care,” I flatly informed her as I turned and started back towards my bed.

“It’s a beautiful day outside!” she declared, bringing a hand to her chest and raising her voice because she was apparently not letting me go back to bed without a fight. “Birds are singing! Flowers are blooming!”

“I. Do. Not. Care,” I hissed as I threw myself upon the bed. Several birds of varying colored plumages and sizes were now flitting around the room while a kaleidoscopic array of flowers began springing from the walls. I tossed Elle, the traitor, a mild glare. She was too preoccupied staring intently at a bird that had alighted on her finger to notice, so I did the sensible thing and covered my head with a pillow.

“On days like these, kids like us—”

I threw the pillow at her, which only earned me cackling laughter for my efforts, and now I no longer had a pillow to hide beneath. _I didn’t really think that one through_.

“Very well then!” she cried, her tone challenging. “Let the pillow war begin!”

“No, wai—” I tried to say before finding myself with a face full of pillow. As it turned out, I only had the one pillow, and Elle was still thoroughly enraptured by the bird twittering away at her from its perch upon her finger, so the ‘pillow war’ wasn’t a war so much as us throwing that single pillow back and forth for a minute or two. Eventually I gave it up as a bad job because I had been thoroughly woken up and wearily said, “Fine, fine, you win.”

“You doubted I would? Now c’mon, Faultline’s tired of waiting for your lazy ass to get out of bed. Team meeting or whatever.”

“Alright, shower later then, I guess. Get out so I can change.”

“Aw c’mon, you ain’t got nothing I haven’t seen!”

I paused midway through pointing to the door and blinked. “Oh. Right. I, um, guess that’s true now, isn’t it?” She gave me an amused look, and I rolled my eyes. “Well, shut the door then.”

She pushed the door closed while I carefully stepped around the large, circular flower bed that had sprung up in the middle of the floor. I had long since grown inoculated to something like Elle turning our room into a scene straight out of Snow White, but Aisha seemed to be watching the goings on with much more interest. I still hadn’t gotten any extra furniture, but I had it on my to-do list once Melanie paid me for the Providence job. As it was, I started to fish around in my suitcase for some fresh clothes before turning to say over my shoulder, “Hey, can you help Elle get changed? Seems like she’s having a bad day. Just get out some clothes for her and tell her to change one item at a time.”

“A’ight?” she replied, sounding vaguely confused, which I suppose made sense. Newter and I had given her a rough explanation of how Elle’s powers affected her mood and how present she was, but considering Aisha hadn’t met the team until the night before Providence, AKA _yesterday_ , this was still obviously a new concept for her. I had been a little bit thrown too the first time Melanie needed to come in and help Elle with getting ready for the day. I had never had other siblings or really lived with anyone but Mom, but after watching Melanie do it a couple times, I had surprised myself by starting to help. I hadn’t told her at the time, but it had meant a lot to me that she didn’t question me like I had nefarious motives and wanted to peek or whatever. It was affirming.

I pulled off the grimy sports bra I had worn under my costume and fallen asleep in and breathed a bit of a sigh of relief. _Jesus_ , _I hadn’t realized how tight that was_ , I thought _,_ eying the clean sports bra I had laid out with trepidation. _Gonna have to use some of that money on a new wardrobe too, since Melanie will get pissed if I steal shit…_

“Um, so… Shirt off? I guess?” Aisha said behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, and she was eying Elle with trepidation as she mechanically started to pull off her thin white shirt, which I recognized from dressing her yesterday morning. She would need a shower later too.

Aisha looked to me with unsure eyes, and I gave her a quick nod. “Yeah, that’s right. Melanie or I will help her shower later.” Just like it was possible to give Elle a shirt and tell her to change or to give her food and and tell her to eat, helping her shower was a simple matter of bringing her to the bathroom and asking her to clean up.

“Who the hell is ‘Melanie’?”

“Faultline, duh. What, did you think Newter or Gregor were secretly named Melanie?”

“Fair,” she said with a chuckle as I turned my attention back to the offending article of clothing on my bed and started to pull it over my head. After a half minute of trying to maneuver my body correctly and an awkward grunt or two, my efforts were rewarded with a mild tearing sound as I stretched the band just a hair too much, but it finally settled into place. I glared when Aisha snorted, but she ignored my dour expression and pointed out the obvious. “You need new clothes.”

“Mhm,” I hummed in agreement as I pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt that now hugged my chest a bit too snuggly. “It seems having your body shape changed all at once means your clothes don’t really fit anymore. I’m sure you’re just as shocked as I am.”

“Definitely.” She turned her attention back to Elle, who was currently staring vaguely in the direction of the window, though her aim was a bit too low. “Okay, um, shirt on— wait, no, bra off?”

I scoffed playfully before standing and pushing Aisha towards my bed. “Newbie. Let a pro handle this.”

A few minutes later, I had successfully guided Elle through the process of changing into fresh clothes and had crammed myself into my now _very_ ill-fitting jeans, and the three of us made our way down to the conference room. Melanie, Gregor, and Masuyo were having a quiet conversation at one end of the table, and Newter was engrossed with something on his phone, but they all glanced up when we came in.

“Finally,” Newter groused, his tail jabbing towards me in a pointing motion. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Have a seat,” I told Elle as I gently steered her towards one of the free chairs near the door. Once she was in the process of sitting down, I took the seat next to her and gave Newter an innocent look. “Time to start the meeting?”

Aisha chuckled as she grabbed the seat on my other side, and Melanie cleared her throat. “Now that we’re all awake, we need to discuss what happened, where we are now, and what’s happening next. I’ll begin with the obvious: Yesterday did not go according to plan.”

“Tell me about it,” Newter said. “Got the job done though. Employer happy?”

“Fortuitously, he did not comment regarding the public nature of how difficult the job became and paid in full.”

“This is good,” Gregor commented, a hint of relief in his words.

“For sure,” Newter said, a sly expression on his face, “‘cause somebody clearly needs to go shopping.”

I scowled at him and resisted the urge to cross my arms, which would only make the obvious even more so. “Well aware. You can stop leering, you perv.”

“Hey now, there’s no need to be like that,” the orange boy snickered.

Melanie cleared her throat meaningfully at the end of the table, and all eyes moved back to her. “That does bring up another topic that needs addressing. The next time you’re in a situation where you’re cutting a _deal_ with someone, you need to involve me.”

“What, you wanted me to say _no_?” I demanded, bristling. “Fuck no!”

“Nothing like that, June,” she assured, her expression softening somewhat but still chiding. “I never would have stood between you and that, but as you saw yesterday with Piggot in the garage, there is an art to negotiation, and I’m certain you can agree I have more experience in it than you. I simply do not want you to get yourself stuck with the raw end of the stick next time.”

I wilted a bit at that. _Dammit, you know she’s been nothing but supportive,_ I rebuked myself. _Fucking chillax_. With her sitting right next to Melanie, it did not escape my notice that Masuyo was watching my reaction intently. I didn’t know what to make of it though, and I had bigger fish to fry, so I ignored her for now. “Right,” I apologized. “Sorry, I just… Well, you know it’s important to me.”

“I know. Just try to remember next time you can always ask me for help.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best,” I said, nodding. I had only known her for a few weeks, but Melanie _had_ proved herself to be firm but fair. She hadn’t sugarcoated the costs of my costume, but just as she had promised after our first team meeting, she had ‘discounted’ it wherever she could. Likewise, she had let me know two days before Providence that she had started making arrangements for getting me medical insurance and was just waiting on my false ID, which would require money from my cut from the job. And that wasn’t even counting the little things like the affirmation of letting me help with Elle and the professional respect she showed me during training.

She held my gaze for a moment then nodded in return. “As it stands, it sounds like the deal wasn’t as bad as it could be.” Her eyes shifted next to me. “Aisha, you’re _certain_ nothing went wrong when you were… healing Panacea?”

“Yeah,” Aisha flippantly responded. “All I had to do was push it away from Glory Hole.”

Melanie’s eyes narrowed at that. For a second I thought she was going to scold Aisha for the joke name, but then she asked, “Pushed it away? You mean you redirected the desires? You didn’t _eliminate_ them?”

I turned to look at Aisha more directly and paled a bit when that line of questioning gave her pause. “Um,” she replied, suddenly hesitant. “I mean, I didn’t want to fuck around in her head _that much_ , you know? I just figured… I mean, I didn’t push it off to her family or nuthin’! Look, hang on a sec.”

Shadows engulfed her, and a moment later she was in Amy Dallon’s skin once more. “I had been _wanting_ to save this charge of her just in case we needed healing or whatnot, but you want an explanation? Okay, this is complicated medical shit, but I’ll try to keep it basic: Our brain is made up of neurons, and when we encounter stimuli, they fire in certain ways. With similar stimuli you get similar but _different_ neuron chains because it’s not the original stimulus, it’s something similar. That’s important because Amy’s power can tell me ‘oh, that brain activity there means she has the hots for the person represented by this particular neuron chain,’ but it doesn’t tell me it’s her _sister_ she’s wanting to bang. That’s where the neuron chain similarities matter: I couldn’t tell who in particular a given chain was, but I _could_ tell who was a family member and therefore not someone she should suddenly want to get hot ‘n’ frisky with. Likewise, I could extrapolate who was likely to be a friend because there were certain similarities between _those_ chains and family chains.

“ _So_ , with all that said: Since I didn’t want to change anything more than necessary and I could isolate who was family and friends, I just picked the neuron chain for someone _else_. At worst, she’s pining after someone who’s, like, an acquaintance. Eliminate the incest shit, avoid possibly messing up friendships with sudden love eyes, and presto, she’s all better. Satisfied?”

 _Well, that was crazy and cool_ , I thought to myself as I stared at Aisha. She had told us in our hasty power explanations the day before yesterday that she inherited skills and basic knowledge when she became a doppelgänger, but it was something else to see her suddenly throwing around explanations of how the brain functions.

Melanie had steepled her fingers and listened carefully to Aisha’s power fueled explanation, and once my friend was done, asked, “And would you say that Panacea could view, for example, yourself, June, and Masuyo as _acquaintances_ , Aisha?”

Aisha raised her finger in objection before pausing and frowning. “Um… I plead the fifth?”

“I don’t disagree Aisha could have been more careful about that,” Masuyo said, speaking up, “but it’s worth pointing out that Panacea helps at several hospitals in the area and goes to high school still. The pool of ‘acquaintances’ has got to be tremendous. If even three hundred people fall into that category, then statistically speaking, there’s only a _one_ percent chance it’s one of the three of us.” She turned to me and added offhandedly, “Oh, and I think I’ve figured out Shade’s name, June.”

That startled a laugh out of me in spite of the serious discussion. “I guess so. I thought you were studying to be a nurse?”

“I am?” she answered, sounding confused. “You do realize you don’t _only_ take nursing classes if you’re getting a nursing degree, right?”

“Of course I did,” I lied. “Just ain’t ever heard a nurse thrown down math like that.”

Melanie cleared her throat again. “Regardless, the fact remains that all three of you should remain cautious and alert the team if Panacea reaches out to you and acts unnaturally. The rest of us should all be in the clear, unless one of you has met Panacea outside of my knowledge?” She looked to Gregor and Newter, and they both shook their heads, affirming they hadn’t encountered her.

“Moving on then. Although we successfully completed the job, we antagonized the PRT in doing so. For Aisha’s sake, I’ll remind everyone that as mercenaries, we need to strike a balance of neutrality. In this case, that means we should leave town as soon as feasibly possible and stay distant for some time. While away, I will put out feelers to the PRT of a different city about taking a job at a discounted rate to reestablish some goodwill. Between that and time away from Brockton Bay, we should be able to smooth over any bumps. Thankfully, several people in the ER took videos of the confrontation, and although Newter and I came at Miss Militia from behind, the three officers who came at us from behind discharged their weapons _in a hospital and towards civilians_. Enough people reposted the videos that the PRT hasn’t been able to take them all down, so public opinion about what happened seems to be fairly mixed. Muddied waters makes reestablishing a balance easier.”

“Yo, I gotta interrupt,” Aisha abruptly announced. “I got a decent charge off of Panacea from watching her do her shit with Junebug, but it ain’t gonna last forever, so if any of you need healing or want a third eye or something, then speak up.”

“I got a bit scuffed up, but touching me is a one-way ticket to tripping balls,” Newter answered before turning to Gregor. “How about you, big guy?”

“I do have a few minor injuries,” Gregor admitted, “but you should attend to Melanie first.”

A look of fond exasperation crossed Melanie’s expression, giving me the impression he had a habit of putting others first. It certainly lined up with my own experiences with him these past few weeks. “I will spare you the argument, Gregor. Fortunately, my injuries are also quite minor. Aisha, if you would.”

In short order, Aisha fixed them both up and moved over to Masuyo, who shook her head. “No need,” she denied. “Panacea fixed me up when she took care of my arm last night.”

My eyes narrowed at that reminder. _I’d almost forgotten she injured herself. Gotta look into that_.

Elle had not physically engaged anyone in person yesterday and therefore did not need healing either, so Aisha shifted back into herself, and Melanie resumed talking. “Regarding where we will be going… I’m still working out exactly where we will go, but the most likely candidate thus far is Philadelphia.”

“Is there a particular reason for Philadelphia?” Gregor asked.

Melanie nodded. “I can’t say anything conclusively yet, but a source I’ve got working on Gregor and Newter’s case may have stumbled onto a lead there.”

That made Gregor and Newter both perk up noticeably, the latter excitedly saying, “You mean…?”

Melanie held up her hands in a ‘slow down’ gesture. “Like I said it’s nothing conclusive yet. I’m waiting on confirmation from her now, which is fine, since we have an appointment with the PRT in two days.”

I grinned. “Delicious burgers! Looking forward to it!”

Aisha, who had retaken her seat next to me, shoulder bumped me with a grin. “Lunch though, right? I thought _somebody_ was on a crazy diet?”

“Not for now!” I retorted with a grin. “I’m under Doctor Panacea’s orders to eat a lot for the next few days to make up for all the biomass she had to use. I get to cheat, cheat, cheat!”

Melanie cleared her throat _again_ , and I sheepishly returned my attention to her. “This will hardly be a casual lunch, June. As I just mentioned, tensions with the PRT are high right now, so we need to tread carefully in returning Dauntless’ boots. Despite the PRT’s assurances that it will only be Armsmaster and Gallant attending, I would be shocked if they didn’t have as many capes as they could muster standing by just in case.” She turned her gaze to each of us in turn. “We’ll need to plan accordingly and treat the situation with the same professionalism we would a mission. Is that clear?”

We all answered in the affirmative spare Elle, who was in no state for speaking.

“Okay. Then let’s go over what we know about Fugly Bob’s…”

* * *

“I’ll be back in a little while,” Masuyo said to Melanie as the meeting wrapped up, catching my attention.

“Stand up, Elle,” I quietly murmured, trying to discreetly listen in.

“I’ve just got to grab some things and talk to my… my good friend that I mentioned.”

I took Elle by the hand and led her towards the room’s exit at a pace I hoped wasn’t unreasonably slow.

Melanie nodded, giving Masuyo a look I couldn’t quite decipher using my peripheral vision. “I’m trusting you to impart the importance of discretion to her. We’ll see you back before tonight?”

“You will,” Masuyo affirmed as Elle and I slipped out.

My eyes narrowed as I carefully led my friend back towards our room. Masuyo was going to be sticking around? And Melanie was okay with it? What was going on? I had expected Masuyo would be leaving, but on reconsideration, I couldn’t really pinpoint _why_ I had thought that. Nothing about Masuyo made sense to me when I really stopped and tried to understand her.

I needed to fix that.

I smoothly diverted to moving towards Gregor and Newter’s room instead and knocked on the shut door. Gregor opened the door a minute later and glanced down at us in surprise. “Juniper? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. I just, I dunno, felt restless and wanted to go fly. Would you mind keeping an eye on Elle?”

“I will do this, but you are aware she does not require constant supervision, no?” he asked.

“W-Well, yeah?” I said, but in truth, no—no, I had not known that. But if nobody had said, ‘Please take care of Elle,’ then why had I…? “Of course I did! I was just, um, wanting to be thorough is all.”

His expression shifted, and I had gotten good enough at reading him to recognize the gentleness obscured by his translucent skin. I hastily turned to Elle to hide my flush and said, “Okay, Elle, would you mind staying with Gregor for now? I’mma head out for a bit.” She lightly squeezed my hand where I was still gripping hers, and I smiled in spite of myself. Perhaps today wasn’t so bad after all.

“And Juniper,” Gregor said, drawing my attention back to him. “Please remember to stay calm. Do not cut ties frivolously.”

It took conscious effort to keep the surprise off of my face. “I dunno what you’re talking about,” I muttered, averting my eyes from his knowing look. “Just goin’ out to fly…”

I all but fled back to our room and debated for a moment whether to pull on one of my backup costumes. Melanie had insisted on acquiring more than one, which was good, since the one I used in Providence was… not exactly in the best shape. _No, not the whole costume_ , I decided as I grabbed my scarf. That would be far too flashy in the middle of the day, but bringing my mask along when I planned to fly was essential.

I tugged the mask on and pushed the window open as I summoned orbs from my backpack, which was still loaded up from yesterday. The orbs wrapped around me as much as I could without tempting bad feelings out, then I took off out the opening, hoping I wasn’t too late to follow Masuyo. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be seen by the time I was in the sky over Palanquin. Also unfortunately, my hair was getting _everywhere_. I needed to get hair ties or something for next time, but for now, I had to focus.

_Did she already leave? Has she not left yet?_

I had almost talked myself into flying off to her apartment when she finally slipped out of Palanquin. I grinned and kept pace overhead as she made her way to a vehicle in the lot out back, and then… Well, I didn’t do _nothing_ , but as it turns out, stalking a car traveling at the speed limit through the Monday afternoon traffic in Brockton Bay was less than thrilling. Surprise! I had brought my phone, but I resisted the urge to lose myself in it, just in case she took a weird turn and I lost her. Eventually she did in fact make her way back to her apartment building, which presented me with a new obstacle: Finding which windows were the ones for her apartment. I knew there was one in the living room, and I imagined there was one in the bedroom. There were codes about that or something, right?

I flew up to the right floor and tapped my finger on my chin as I mentally walked myself through the building. _Okay, the elevator is right inside the lobby, so I go up to here then that wa— no wait, right, if I’m entering the elevator from this angle, then I’m coming back_ this _way. So that means…_

I quickly flew over towards the area where the living room window should be and planted myself against the exterior of the building. It wouldn’t do for someone to look out the window and see me, after all. I peaked up and over the ledge. _Whoops, this is that old lady’s place,_ I thought as I groaned and hastily pulled back before scooching over to the right window. I frowned when I saw there was a Middle Eastern woman I didn’t recognize sitting on the couch staring at her phone. Masuyo had mentioned meeting a friend earlier… So was this that friend? Were they… Apartment sitting, I think the term was? Or did I fuck up and get the wrong apartment again? _I mean, I think that kitchen is laid out the same way? Kinda don’t recall now…_

Thankfully Masuyo removed any doubt when the front door opened revealing her in the doorway. I ducked out of the way when Masuyo glanced towards the living room, and though my heart raced at the idea that she had seen me, objectively I knew she was just looking towards the woman in the apartment. Once my heart rate had settled down a bit, I realized my plan had a problem, which was par for the course, if I was being honest. Well, outside of fights. I seemed to be doing okay there so far.

 _Anyway_ , back to my original point. I really hadn’t thought this through. I didn’t have any good way to listen in on them with the window being closed, and the window, like most modern windows, had a frame that wasn’t made of metal. Did I dare to risk trying to open it? Surely her friend would remember she hadn’t opened it. It was October—why would she have opened the window?

Distracted as I was, I didn’t notice the latches on the window being undone until just before the frame was slid open. My head snapped to the window with wide eyes, and Masuyo gave me a vaguely amused look from where she was leaning on the windowsill. “You _could_ just come in the normal way. Pretty sure you still have the key I made you.”

I floundered for what to say. “This… this is…”

“Exactly what it looks like?” she helpfully supplied with a wry smile. She pulled herself up from the sill and tapped on it imploringly. “C’mon inside. You haven’t even got a jacket on. You must be freezing.”

I grumbled. It was true, but that didn’t mean I needed her to rub it in. I didn’t know what she was playing at, since she clearly had someone else in the apartment, but I was willing to tentatively give her the benefit of the doubt for the moment. She _had_ played a huge part in getting my arm fixed, so I could at least give her that much. I carefully maneuvered myself in through the window and set myself down on the floor before letting my orbs puddle to the ground. I glanced at the person I hadn’t recognized, and she stared right back.

“So this is Sabah,” Masuyo said as she waved towards the other person. “She… Well, she was there when I, um, found out what happened to you in Providence. So she… she knows. I’m sorry.”

My eyes narrowed at that, but I did my best to channel Gregor and calm down. It was tough, what with wanting to punch her for giving up my identity. I turned to Sabah, who took an unconscious step back. “Say nothing to anyone. Got it?”

“It’s my fault,” Masuyo interrupted. “If you’re going to be angry at someone, then blame me—not her. I was… in shock, I guess, when I figured it out and asked her for advice without really thinking it through. That doesn’t excuse it, but it’s what happened. It won’t happen again.”

 _What would Gregor do? What would Gregor do?_ I chanted internally, trying to will myself to be calm. It took me a minute, but blessedly neither of them said anything, apparently content to let me work through the revelation. Finally, I huffed and pulled down my scarf. “You burned your arm or whatever, so we’re even now, got it? You don’t have any _other_ secrets you need to tell me or anything, right?”

Her eyes slid closed, and a look of resignation crossed her face. “Um… Two things? I… know who your father is. Was.”

Whatever I had been expecting her to say, _that_ wasn’t it. He was dead? Why did she know? Was she my cousin on his side or something? But no, that didn’t make sense. Masuyo looked like… like Mom. “Don’t… don’t tell me.”

“Don’t?” she said, clearly taken aback.

“I don’t care who he was,” I firmly stated. “Until you came along, I only ever had Mom, and she was… I don’t want to talk about that either, really, but my point is I don’t care about ‘family.’” Her expression fell immediately, and I winced. I was screwing this up all over again. “Blood family, I mean. Goddammit, that’s not… Look, I’ve heard people say shit like ‘chosen family’ before or whatever, and I dunno if that… fits or not, but it’s true I only care about certain people. People _worth_ caring about. I don’t give a flying fuck about who gave birth to me… Siblings, grandparents, none of that shit.” I paused a moment, the deluge of words having just burst out all at once, like a dam in me had broken or something. “Does… does that make sense?”

Sabah tittered, and both of us shot her looks. “Sorry, sorry. This is just… She’s exactly like I expected from your descriptions, Masuyo. It’s uncanny.”

A small smile crept onto Masuyo’s face as she watched Sabah fight to contain the urge to laugh. “Yes, well, I’m glad I was able to sufficiently prepare you for Hurricane June.”

I rolled my eyes. “Uh huh. Anyway, what was the second thing?”

The smile faded. “It’s… related to the first thing, so I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

I shrugged. That was fair. Now though… Awkwardly, I replied, “You totally ruined my attempt to spy on you, so I don’t really know where to go from here.”

Masuyo shrugged as well. “I’m guessing you were wanting to figure something out. No other reason to spy, right? You _can_ just ask.”

I stared at her for a moment before deciding, _Fuck it, why not?_ This was probably the longest we had ever spoken without her driving me to snap at her. What was the saying? Let it ride? “You let Shade use Gregor’s acid on your arm at Bayside. Why?”

Sabah turned to Masuyo with wide, startled eyes, but Masuyo held up her hands. “I’m okay! I’m okay,” she assured the dusky-skinned girl.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she replied, sounding barely reassured, “but why would you knowingly pour acid on your arm?”

“Yeah, Masuyo,” I chimed in. “Why?”

“It’s hardly fair being double-teamed like this, you know,” my cousin joked. When neither of us relented in staring her down, an awkward laugh escaped her that bled into a sigh at the end. “Tough crowd… Sabah, I can’t give all the details here, since not all of it is public knowledge. Faultline would have my head.”

Somehow Sabah tensed up even more than she already was. “So you’re… joining them?”

“That… depends on June,” she admitted, shocking me. Faultline _was_ letting her join? But why? Masuyo had no powers, so what was there to gain?

“Don’t look so shocked,” Masuyo added with a weak grin. “Plenty of non-powered people work for Faultline. But actually, I wouldn’t be working for Faultline.”

“Huh? But then…?”

“I’d be working for Gregor. As I’m sure you can guess, people stare at him at best when he goes out, so he usually pays someone to go out and get whatever he needs.”

“Drugs? Weapons?” Sabah whispered, her eyes wide. “Women?”

“God no!” Masuyo hurried to reassure her. “Nothing like that! From what I could tell, he doesn’t even seem like the kind of guy who’s into any of that. No, I mean things like food and drink, toiletries, new clothes, and the like.”

“Daniel fucked up a second time, I take it?” I spoke up. Gregor had explained his system the first time I saw Daniel. Gregor would pay people to be his go-fer up until the first time they were unavailable for an errand for whatever reason. If the reason wasn’t good, then he dropped them and got someone else. Same if it was their second strike. I had offered to just get whatever he needed for him, and he thanked me but declined politely, saying he preferred to not ask favors of his friends. Daniel had already been on his first strike when I met him, though Gregor had never explained what the guy had done.

“So he said,” Masuyo affirmed before proceeding to briefly explain to Sabah how being Gregor’s go-fer worked, leaving me to ponder the implications. I already knew Gregor had advised against severing ties with Masuyo, even after that disastrous move-out, so it was obvious why he’d chosen Masuyo to be a go-fer. But there were parts that still didn’t make sense to me.

“What about your school?” I abruptly asked. “And work at the hospital? Friends and all that? For that matter, we’re getting ready to go to Philly, surely you’re not coming with?”

Masuyo seemed to have finished her quick explanation to Sabah and easily answered, “It’s early enough in the semester to back out for family reasons and get back my tuition. The hospital was a strictly volunteer thing, so it’s easy enough to say I can’t attend for the same reasons. And as for Philadelphia, you’re not getting rid of me that easily!”

No. No, this didn’t make sense. Nobody just cared about somebody because they were _related_. Mom actually popped me out of her, and she certainly never gave a fuck, so why…? “ _Why_?” I demanded. Some of the pain slipped into the words, but I wanted—no, _needed_ —to put this to rest. To figure it out. Everything else in my life made sense. Aisha, Melanie, Elle, Gregor, Newter… I understood why they cared about me. I was useful, I was helpful… That made sense. Masuyo though?

 _It makes no sense_.

Masuyo and Sabah shared a look of confusion for a moment before Masuyo asked, “Why what?”

I felt tears pricking at my eyes and hastily turned around, hoping they hadn’t seen. _Fuck this. I’m going home._ I took a step towards the window, answering the urge to flee.

“June?” she gently asked, and there was _something_ in the way she said my name that made me stop. I couldn’t take a step further. My feet had become lead, and not the kind I could move with my power. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you care about me?” I asked, entirely unable to help how broken the words came out. “I don’t get it.”

“June, you’re _family_ —”

“No!” I bellowed, spinning around with wild eyes. “I told you, that means nothing! People always say that like it’s the answer to everything, but it’s fucking nothing! _Family_ —” I spat the word out “—is just another way of saying ‘burden’! That’s all I ever was to Mom, and that’s probably why Dad fucked off to who knows where—so he didn’t have t-to t-take care of me.” _Goddammit_ , I couldn’t stop the tears anymore, but the words were just tumbling out, like water through a sieve. I couldn’t stop them if I wanted to. “And you, you’re acting like you’re different, but it’s a lie, it always is! The moment I got here, you tried for days to convince me I’m someone I’m not, someone more _convenient_ in a city of Nazis!

“So just… just _stop it_. Stop pretending to care. You don’t have to, and I don’t want you to. I c-can take care of myself!”

“ _Juniper_ ,” Masuyo breathed out as she took a halting step forward, her arms rising halfway like she wanted to hug me but was afraid I would bolt if she tried. “I’m not y-your mother. I _do_ care. I’ve always cared, and I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.”

“Stop it,” I begged, rubbing at my eyes. The tears wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t they _fucking_ stop? “Stop lying…”

“I was a foster kid,” she blurted out. The non-sequitur shocked me, and I found myself looking up at her through blurry eyes. “My birth mother, she gave me up. I never found out why, and I can’t ask because she’s d-dead. I was adopted by a couple here in the city, and after a few years they started to fight. I was maybe five or six at the time, but I can still remember them divorcing and fighting back and forth in court. Both of them became so bitter and treated me so badly… I… I had to move in with Dad after Mom got killed in a drive-by while hanging out with her boyfriend. And Dad, he… he, um…” Masuyo shuddered, and Sabah reached out tentatively and took her hand. That seemed to ground her enough to continue, but she still had a haunted look in her eyes. “I got passed around from family to family, and I always… It never stuck. I think my longest stay with anyone after that was maybe six months?”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, completely lost.

“Because family _should_ care!” The torment in her eyes vanished, burning to ash in the wake of a passion I hadn’t seen from her before. Tears were pouring from her eyes now too, and just like the last time I was here, their resemblance to my own lanced through me, cutting down to my core. “Because all those years, every time I stayed with someone, all I had ever wanted was for someone to care about me! To give a damn when I had a bad day, to hug me when I cried, t-to _love_ me a-again…”

Masuyo sobbed and broke off, too choked up to continue, and Sabah let go of her hand and enveloped her in a hug. I sat there and stared silently for I don’t even know how long, completely flabbergasted.

“B-But you tried to make me be… How could you…?”

“I didn’t know what to think, June,” she managed to say, her face still half buried in the shorter Sabah’s hair. “CPS, they didn’t tell me anything about your transition, so when you just showed up, I… When I got shipped off to a new foster parent, I would test them, y’know? Push them to find where the boundaries were. I thought that’s what _you_ were doing, and I got scared this joke, this… prank would get you shanked by some Empire goon. If I had known… I _still_ would have been worried as all hell, but I never would have pushed you like that. Maybe I’d have tried to get you into homeschooling or something? Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Careful,” Sabah murmured, the corner of her lips quirking up just a tad, “I think she’s starting to rub off on you.”

I choked on a watery laugh. I knew full well what Sabah had meant, but… _Yeah… Yeah, maybe she is._

I took a halting step forward. Then another. One more put me next to the two of them as Masuyo looked up and locked eyes with me. She unwrapped one of her arms from around Sabah and held it out invitingly, and the shorter girl took her cue from my cousin and did the same.

 _It makes no sense_.

I took one more step and let the two of them wrap their arms around me. A cousin who was apparently just as broken as me, and a stranger I hadn’t met until today.

_Fuck it. Let it ride._

I hugged them back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoys this sweet start to the chapter! I regret to inform you all it's gonna get worse. It's gonna get so. much. worse.
> 
> A great update about my partner's health: Like I said last time, we didn't go through with the surgery. Instead we followed up on trying a little thing called Emgality, and it worked! Their headache went from a constant 8-9 pain down to a 3 in roughly a day! We were so shocked that I actually reached out to the doctor to make sure it wasn't a fluke (she'd said it could take a few weeks), but she confirmed some people do in fact feel better that quickly but she hadn't wanted to get our hopes up. We have enough Emgality samples to get us up to December, so now it's just an insurance battle ahead, and we have months to fight it over. Wish us luck!


	18. Bell 3.2

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♦ Topic: Boudicca joining Protectorate ENE?

In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay Discussion (Public Board)

Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Posted on October 12th, 2010:

One of my sources has heard rumblings that Boudicca, an indie hero in Providence (her thread is **here** ) is joining the Protectorate ENE soon. Strangely enough, it appears the PRT did _not_ put pressure on Boudicca to join. Apparently she made the decision herself, which is interesting because she’s been active in Providence for a few years now. 

No word on when the PRT are going to make an official announcement, but this has the potential to shake things up in the Brockton Bay cape scene. There’s been a lot of speculation on how strong she gets when she really lets her power ramp up, and though she ultimately failed to stop Faultline and her merry band of mercs from absconding with Bad Canary on Sunday, that fight (see the full thread **here** ) clearly demonstrated there’s strong synergy between her power and Assault’s, just like the synergy between Assault and Battery.

(Showing page 9 of 12)

► Chrome

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

I fail to see how it matters which pair up is better. The point is Boudicca + Assault = strong. Boudicca can use Assault to ramp up more easily, and Assault can then use kinetic energy from Boudicca to do batshit crazy things like he always does.

► XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

Alright, fine. Not trying to start an argument or anything…

► ZeeEnd

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

You can’t honestly think Boudicca could replace Battery?! Assault and Battery 4 life!

► Alathea

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

Okay, let’s stop the match up discussions and keep things on topic before I have to hand out infractions. 

Discussions about which cape pairing is best should go in the Versus sub-forum (or perhaps the Cape Romance sub-forum, depending on your argument).

► Meteoric_Rise

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

boudicca went 0 to 60 after one weak slap from assault. scary shit

► Chrome

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@Meteoric_Rise’s comment does bring up a good question. OP made the point that Boudicca and Assault have synergy, and we see the event Meteoric_Rise is describing in several of the posted videos. Is that Boudicca’s cap, or could she have gotten even _stronger_ in one hit if she and Assault had prepped more? If I’m understanding her power correctly (it’s a weird one), then could she punch Assault once or twice and reach the point where she recovers from any wound almost instantly? There’s a video on her info thread where she regrows an _arm_ in under a minute (link is **here** , but be warned it’s liable to make you squick). Could she reach the point she regrows an arm in half a minute? Ten seconds? _Less_?

► ThrowingShade

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@Chrome: yeah, prob 10 sec max

► DarkBear

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

holy cow that would be crazy to see like panacea level shit but just for her is there any update on when prt are doing announcement

► Brocktonite03

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@ DarkBear: Um, please use punctuation and capitalization. That was… painful. And no, there’s no word of official announcement beyond OP’s post. Not that I doubt him. He is The Guy in the Know, after all.

► OoberGooger

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

We’ve already got enough shit to deal with in BB. We don’t need a Brit on top of everything

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 … 9, 10, 12

*

♦ Topic: Meteor

In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay Discussion (Public Board)

White Fairy (Original Poster)

Posted on October 10th, 2010:

Okay, so I think I’m posting this in the right sub-forum? Meteor _technically_ debuted in Providence, but it’s an open secret that Faultline’s Crew is based out of Brockton Bay, and sightings of a cape matching her description in the weeks are all out of Brockton Bay, so I’m pretty confident this is the right place to discuss her.

Before we dive into speculation about Meteor’s costume and powers, here are some important dates and reports I was able to scrounge together that give a timeline of appearances and context for discussion:

• September 27th: So there’s a reason why Palanquin, a Brockton Bay nightclub, has a sub-forum under this sub-forum. Link is **here**. Known members of FLC like Newter and Gregor the Snail have been frequently seen there, so people like to post about the place, particularly women claiming to have tried Newter’s, err, stuff. _Anyway_ , some patrons at the club posted in that sub-forum that there was a surprise show on this night. Objects like jewelry, wallets, coins, that sort of thing all go flying up into the air and spinning around. Apparently the actually reflective stuff made for a cool show, based on the postings. The club’s staff apologized for everyone’s stuff getting mixed up, and at least one or two people reported seeing someone in a dark domino mask but no costume. Apparently this happened again later in the evening, but this time with other objects. Nobody seems to agree on _what_ the objects were, since apparently all of the objects in this second wave were very reflective, but some common ones people were describing were CDs and silverware.

• September 28th: Buried Treasure, a small boutique selling accessories on the BB Boardwalk (and basically right across from the Protectorate ENE HQ!) is robbed. Nobody was harmed, though property was damaged. The culprit? Apparently got a good look at them! This is notable because the theft was of the safe and registers, and the only description people gave was of somebody flying off with the safes and registers. This potentially lines up with Meteor’s MO (see power and costume discussion below). Also on this night, someone **posted** in this sub-forum about watching from their window as both of the ABB’s capes(!), Lung and Oni Lee, were attacked and _beaten_. The OP said it was too dark to make out any details but described something large and roughly cube shaped being thrown at Lung during the fight. It’s not confirmation, but that _could_ have been a safe, which means it _could_ have been Meteor. Timing of the attack according to the poster would line up with being not very long after the robbery of Buried Treasure.

• September 29th-October 8th: More postings (links **here** , **here** , and **here** ) between these dates in the Palanquin sub-forum about more of these flying object shows. Descriptions of the objects line up with the second show on the 27th. Postings like this keep popping up with nobody knowing _who_ is doing the shows, though some of the people claiming to have hung out with Newter on the ‘invite only’ balcony lounge the nights of the shows mention another teen who wore a _silver scarf as a mask_. Again, this lines up with Meteor’s MO (see below).

• October 10th: Bad Canary, a rogue who’s popular on the music scene, was being transported from her hometown of Providence to Boston to be held by the local PRT until her trial began later this year. FLC attack the convoy before it could get onto I-95, and a fight ensues. If you want the full description, then the main thread for that is on the Providence sub-forum. More specific to this thread, this is the first appearance of Meteor, though we don’t have video of her calling herself that until later that night (we’ll get to this in a second). Meteor is seen fighting Assault (a Protectorate ENE hero on loan for the transfer) and three local heroes from Providence: Rubicon, Riptide, and Boudicca. Based on reports and videos of the fighting, Meteor briefly encountered another prisoner on the transport that Boudicca refers to as ‘Loki’ but does not match known descriptions of the local villain of the same name, so it’s hard to say whether it was actually her. Later that evening, Meteor, Faultline, and Newter were recorded on video engaging Protectorate ENE hero Miss Militia in the ER at Brockton Bay General (though around here, we call it ‘Bayside’). The PRT had the hospital surrounded for hours, but from what I can tell, no arrests were made.

So! Here comes the real fun: Powers and costume!

• She’s a Tinker! Recordings of Meteor talking with Miss Militia in Bayside’s ER confirms this. Based on the October 10th fights and the previous dates I mentioned above, it seems her specialty is magnetism? 

• Costume follows a black and silver scheme. Her costume is notably _not_ tinkertech armor, but from what I’ve seen maybe 50% of Tinkers use actual armor, so it’s not exactly unexpected. She uses silver tinted goggles (tinkertech?) and a metallic silver scarf wrapped around the bottom half of her face. Silver vest, skirt, and boots over a black bodysuit of some kind. She was wearing a bandolier of knives in Providence but never drew any during the fight. She had a back-mounted container that was used to store and deploy the tiny spheres (more on those below) and hip-mounted containers that held the one larger orb used on Boudicca (again, more below).

• Her smaller spheres: Meteor is seen using a _lot_ of smaller spheres that she directs with hand movements. These seem to move quite quickly and hit hard, as evidenced by her using them to _break Riptide’s_ _legs_. Yes, this is based on what the hero was screaming at her, but just watch the **video** (backup link **here** ). Those legs definitely look like they might be broken.

• The sphere used on Boudicca (links **here** and **here** ): Meteor uses one sphere that appears to be larger, which is seen moving by itself from Meteor’s hip-mounted container and flying at Boudicca before releasing a gas/aerosol. Whatever it was left Boudicca blind and in pain long enough for FLC to retrieve Meteor and flee the scene.

• Her gloves: Meteor is seen directing the smaller spheres she uses in Providence by hand gestures, but the larger sphere used on Boudicca was _not_ moved by hand gesture. During the confrontation at Bayside, we see examples for and against hand gesture control: Meteor gestures before all the PRT foam launchers are used for friendly fire, and Meteor gestures to _turn a gun into liquid metal_ (holy shit, right?), but she notably does _not_ use hand gestures to turn bullets flying at her teammates into liquid metal. This is only speculation, but I’m guessing she has some sort of equipment set up for reactive protection (the bullets, Boudicca getting ready to assault her, etc.) but uses hand gestures when she wants more direct control. Feel free to discuss below.

• Her hoverboard: Square shaped and looks complicated from what visuals were able to get of it from video of the Providence fight. Appears to be necessary for her to fly, hence ‘hoverboard,’ but there’s no clear propulsion method.

Okay, that’s all I’ve got for now. Go forth and discuss!

(Showing page 7 of 8)

► Ekul

Replied on October 11th, 2010:

@White Fairy: I mean, sure, if Meteoric_Rise _is_ Meteor, then she could in _theory_ get herself verified, but why would she want to invite scrutiny on herself? She’s not a villain per se, but a mercenary is notably not a hero—or a rogue for that matter.

► RoyalJelly

Replied on October 11th, 2010:

@Meteoric_Rise: I was in the ER when those PRT asshats started shooting. **This** is my video upload of Meteor and MM talking. _Thank you_ for stopping them from hurting someone! It’s pretty obvious from your conversation with MM that you were just there to get your injuries looked at. I hope you got taken care of _somewhere_.

► YelpyBeast

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

what does everyone think of her outfit? cute? functional?

@Meteoric_Rise: dunno if you remember me, but i suggested “blue steel.” i like what you went with in the end! tell newter we she hang again sometime!

► White Fairy (Original Poster)

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@Ekul: You say that like posting in the Meteor thread with a name containing “Meteor” isn’t inviting scrutiny? On top of that, Meteoric_Rise is responding as if they _are_ Meteor, and I think that goes against the board rules.

@RoyalJelly: Please don’t engage them…

► OoberGooger

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

[deleted]

**User has been warned for this post. Do it again, and you’re banned, @OoberGooger. I shouldn’t need to remind any of you hate speech is against board rules. C’mon, everyone, there’s no need for this.**

► ThrowingShade

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@White Fairy: throwin out “what if”: would fl want her peeps using verified tags? just sayin

@YelpyBeast: both, duh, but i'm takin her shoppin for new boots stat

@OoberGooger: hey, fuck you! don't talk about her like that!

**User received an infraction for this post. Please defending people from hate speech is a good thing, but please try to be civil about it.**

► Meteoric_Rise

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@RoyalJelly: yw. yeah, i got taken care of elsewhere. next time you see me, no damage. can't say more, sorry

@YelpyBeast: i admit i don’t remember your name, but yeah, you were on the balcony the night i joined up. newter joked i should go with “thrash” *shivers* no thanks, right? oh, and it’s kinda weird to toot my own horn, but i think both functional and cute. it's why i picked it, after all

@ThrowingShade: i swear, you’re gonna get us in trouble. and i know my paint job wasn’t great--no need to bring it up on pho…

@White Fairy: i'm clearly not gonna convince you unless i do something that will get me in trouble, so i'm not bothering anymore. but as one last parting shot, maybe wait on yelpybeast to respond and confirm

► EvaGrimm

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

This is probably kinda weird, but I’m getting ideas for a capefic…

► YelpyBeast

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@Meteoric_Rise, @ThrowingShade: yes! i totally agree!

@White Fairy: she’s the real deal! i watched her do her thing at palanquin, and nobody else would know that

@EvaGrimm: make sure you get her costume right!

► Taking_Back_Life

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@EvaGrimm: Meteor appears to be underage, so please don’t write something perverted…

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 … 7, 8

*

♦ Private messages from Panacea (Verified Cape) (New Wave):

Panacea: If you’re the real deal, then where did we meet?

Meteoric_Rise: while you were trying to light a cigarette on top of bayside. you haven’t been doing that again, have you?

Panacea: It is you!

Meteoric_Rise: you doubted?

Panacea: Kinda? You’d be surprised how many times I’ve seen people try to get in on the “ground floor” when a new cape appears. Not all capes bother with PHO, so they can fly under the radar for a while.

Meteoric_Rise: huh. never knew

Meteoric_Rise: so… what’s up?

Panacea: Well, part of it was I wanted to say thank you again. For… you know. Nobody else knows, so it’s kinda… liberating, I guess, to talk to someone who does.

Meteoric_Rise: makes sense. you're welcome, though shade did all the hard work. you can shoot her a pm if you want. throwingshade is her username

Panacea: I figured. You were going back and forth with her, so since _you_ were the real Meteor, then she had to be the real Shade. I’ll send her a PM soon, thanks!

Panacea: Out of curiosity, why don’t you get contact the mods about getting the verified tag?

Meteoric_Rise: faultline. i dunno if she caught wind of me making a pho handle or what, but she pulled me aside the morning after you and i met and made it abundantly clear she would skin me alive if i did that.

Panacea: Don’t worry, I’d fix you up. Least I could do.

Meteoric_Rise: thanks lol. i'll be sure to send you a message the moment i'm all muscle and bones

Meteoric_Rise: hey, aren’t you supposed to be in school or whatever?

Panacea: Aren’t you?

Meteoric_Rise: point, but i'm not a white hat, goody-goody two-shoes

Panacea: I’m not either.

*

♦ Topic: Menagerie, the best animal show in town!

In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Philadelphia Discussion (Public Board)

Thunder_Dee (Original Poster)

Posted on June 16th, 2010:

Nobody’s made a thread yet for the Philadelphia Zoo’s latest attraction, so let’s fix that. And for the unaware: No, I’m not talking about an animal—at least not all of the time. I’m talking about Menagerie, the newest rogue in Philly! Like most capes, he’s reluctant to go into detail about his powers, but we do know some things from his first shows at the zoo. First, he can control nearby animals. No idea how many or what his range is, but he guided four exotic birds through some aerial stunts over a stunned crowed before joining in with them. No, you didn’t read that wrong. See, the second thing we know is he can transform into animals! So far he’s changed into a toucan, a tiger, and a tapir (so cute!).

The schedule for Menagerie’s shows can be found on the Zoo’s website **here**. There’s a promotional video showing a bit of Menagerie in action on that same website. Just click on the “Meet Menagerie” link on the side or click **here**.

(Showing page 88 of 88)

► elusivetruth

Replied on October 11th, 2010:

Just saw Menagerie for the first time! He was just as amazing as I expected from the videos. He transformed into a rhino—a _rhino_!

► Meteoric_Rise

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@elusivetruth: a rhino? really? not doubting you, just wondering how he didn’t break the stage. or was his show elsewhere in the park? the promo videos on the website only show him on that one stage.

► MonsterMan

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@Meteoric_Rise: Really. I’ve got season passes saw Menagerie do a rhino show back in August. If you’re planning to visit and watch, then be sure to come sooner than later. Zoo will be closing for the Winter on November 5th.

► Meteoric_Rise

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@MonsterMan: ty!

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 … 87, 88

*

♦ Private messages from Panacea (Verified Cape) (New Wave):

Meteoric_Rise: you were not kidding about needing to eat a lot. i swear i'm gonna explode i'm eating so much

Panacea: Sorry. You had some body fat I could use (please don’t take that the wrong way!), but not that much. To be honest, I had to break down your gallbladder and appendix for materials to make your reproductive system.

Meteoric_Rise: what

Panacea: Don’t worry, you don’t need those! Totally optional organs, really!

Meteoric_Rise: not that

Meteoric_Rise: just…

Panacea: ?

Meteoric_Rise: i just never thought about it. having kids. i mean, i thought there was no way i could, um, do it? like, have sex with a woman

Meteoric_Rise: sorry, didn’t mean to vanish like that. just had to think on all of that. still not sure what to think. did i scare you off?

*

♦ Topic: Meteor

In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay Discussion (Public Board)

White Fairy (Original Poster)

(Showing page 9 of 9)

► OoberGooger

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

[deleted]

**User has been banned for this post. I warned you.**

► They_Call_Me_El_Chupanibre

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

Wtf? Setting aside for the moment your apparent desire to get banned, what is with the allegations of Meteor being transgender? I mean, sure, I guess she’s kind of androgynously built if you squint hard enough, but you don’t see people claiming Hellhound is trans despite being built like a brick shithouse.

Edit: Yup, called it. Ban hammer deployed.

► The_U&L_Show

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

Hey @Meteoric_Rise, would you be interested in collaborating on a project? We’d pay, obviously. We can discuss details in PM.

► Meteoric_Rise

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@The_U&L_Show: 

nope. i don’t even need to ask fl to know she’d shoot it down. besides, the er at bayside was packed on sunday because of you two (gta, really? i don’t even play games, and i know that’s a dumb one to emulate), which made it tough to get my arm fixed up

► White Fairy (Original Poster)

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@Ekul: See? _This_ is why letting Meteoric_Rise persist is a problem.

► ThrowingShade

Replied on October 12th, 2010:

@White Fairy: can’t take a hint, can you?

@Meteoric_Rise: i'm asking fl. you'd be cute as shit dressed up as princess peach or something haha

*

♦ Private messages from The_U&L_Show:

The_U&L_Show: You’re certain we can’t convince you?

Meteoric_Rise: shade asked fl anyway, and she said (she told me to quote her), “tell them the amount it would cost to offset the loss to our reputation is more than they could ever dream of paying”

The_U&L_Show: Goddammit. Well, at least you _are_ the real deal…

Meteoric_Rise: i guess she said the same thing to you before?

The_U&L_Show: Yeah. Don’t want to talk about it.

The_U&L_Show: Dammit, and we were really hoping to do a collab piece next, but the Eight shot us down too.

Meteoric_Rise: the eight?

The_U&L_Show: Just ask around about them or something. Sorry, but I need to get back to work, since we’re not hashing out details. Best of luck with your shit.

Meteoric_Rise: same to you, i guess

*

♦ Private messages from Panacea (Verified Cape) (New Wave):

Panacea: No, no. I just couldn’t respond straight away. Vicky’s been giving me side eye.

Meteoric_Rise: why? also, do you know who the “eight” are? u&l just tried to get me to do a joint thing and mentioned the eight shot them down, but i dunno who that is

Panacea: Sister stuff. And yeah, I’ve heard of them. They’re a group of capes who have been traveling the country doing D&D “quests.” I think the right term is they’re LARPing?

Panacea: Anyway, apparently there’s not actually eight of them, which makes it kinda funny they insist on being called that. Last I heard they were in Chicago. Probably want to fight Myrddin or something. 

Meteoric_Rise: huh. okay. weird.

Panacea: Congratulations. You have summed up the majority opinion on the Eight in just three words.

Meteoric_Rise: lol, ty. i don’t think i've ever heard of a group of capes just touring the country. are there others?

Panacea: None that I know of, but if there were, they might be mentioned in the info thread on the eight? I’d link it for you, but I can’t remember where it is off hand, since they travel a lot. Maybe check out the Chicago sub-forum, since they were just there?

Meteoric_Rise: i wasn’t that interested, tbh, but maybe i'll check it out later.

Panacea: Sure. What’re you up to this late, anyway?

Meteoric_Rise: in case you’ve forgotten, i live at a nightclub lol. i'm just hangin out with newter and shade

Meteoric_Rise: what about you? what has you burning the candle at both ends?

Panacea: Couldn’t sleep, so I drove over to the hospital to work a few cases.

Meteoric_Rise: i see. well, i'll let you go then, dr. panacea

Panacea: Ugh. Please don’t.

Meteoric_Rise: fine, fine. i'll stick with dr. amy then

Panacea: Incorrigible. Night…

* * *

It wasn’t until Faultline and I stepped into the Fugly Bob’s that I realized just how wise my decision to add goggles to my costume was. Sure, the idea of protecting my eyes from dirt, rocks, and so on sounds good on paper, but the practicality of having obscuring eyewear was made much more apparent when the aroma of fresh burgers hit my nose. I would have had a fit if I had to sit through this meeting without getting to enjoy a burger… and fries… and a dri—oh, I suppose I _could_ have enjoyed a drink anyway through careful straw management. But in any case, I was pleased the goggles were an established part of my costume as of Providence, seeing as my mouth was literally watering after a few seconds exposure to one of Brockton Bay’s sole redeeming features.

“Oh man, I’m gonna _destroy_ my meal,” I muttered, my thoughts already racing through what kind of burger I might want. A classic? A mushroom and swiss? Did they sell bison burgers here? I had never managed to get my hands on one in Brooklyn, and everyone said they were sinfully good.

“Please stay focused, Meteor,” Faultline replied, her tone equal parts exasperation and resignation.

“What, I’m _hungry_ ,” I totally did not whine. I tore my eyes away from where I had already been eying the menu to look at Faultline, and only then did I notice that a good chunk of the burger shack was looking at us.

“Good. You’ve arrived,” said a man wearing a midnight blue tinkertech helmet exposing a cleanly cut beard. Beside him stood a boy who was at minimum a half head taller than me and also wearing a tinkertech helmet, though his was silver and full face. The few people in the store who weren’t staring at us were staring at them, but that was understandable. The two of them moved towards us with purpose, and even though their gait didn’t suggest they were planning to attack, I nevertheless began reviewing my internal catalog of all the metal in the area. A lot of the big stuff was equipment in the back, but I would only go for that if absolutely necessary, since Faultline would frown on the excessive property damage. Besides, I had plenty of options at my disposal nearby. Napkin dispensers and, my favorite, coins in pockets and wallets were immediately on hand.

“As promised,” Faultline retorted, and though she kept her tone professional, I could almost imagine her drawling the words.

“Indeed. Let’s keep this short. The boots, if you would?”

An indignant noise escaped me, and Faultline’s eye twitched. “Meteor.”

“But I’m hungry!” I replied. Again, I was very much so not whining. I was just… expressing a necessary correction to priorities.

Gallant chuckled before commenting, “I must confess I’m interested in some food as well.”

Armsmaster grunted after a moment’s pause. “Faultline?”

“I was _planning_ to let Meteor get food while we were here anyway—” Oh. Whoops. “—but I suppose we could join you.”

Armsmaster nodded in response and looked so mechanical doing it that I began to sincerely question whether he was, in fact, a robot created by a Tinker and not just a Tinker wearing a suit of armor. This pondering did not in any way stop me from releasing a whoop of excitement before rushing over towards the counter. The people there had all been watching the interaction between the white hats and us and were standing in what might generously be considered a line but was really more of a loose arrangement of people. Some of them visibly jumped when they noticed me rushing over, which only further added to the disorganization.

“Yo!” I cheerfully said, waving. “Are you folks in line, or…?” 

Several people hastily backed away from the area, and the rest looked to them before more sedately moving aside.

“Sweet, thanks!” I cheered before promptly stepping up to the counter. The guy at the register was looking a bit sweaty, which was odd, but I guess he _could_ have just been back by the grills. Those were hot, right? “I’ll take the Crazy Fugly combo with a larg— oh shit, you sell _tater tots_?! Fuck yeah, with a large tater tots. Wait, can you make them _loaded_?” I was grinning like a mad woman by that point, but nobody could see that with my scarf still pulled up, so whatever. Sweaty guy nodded rapidly, and yeah, my grin got much wider. “ _Excellent_! Load ‘em up, then I also want a second large order of loaded tots and a large chocolate milkshake!”

“W-Will that complete your order?” the employee nervously asked.

“For now,” I confirmed with a nod. “I’ll get some more to-go later, ‘kay?”

“Okay. Um, c-can I have a n-name for your order?”

 _Aw. I guess I’m not_ that _well known yet_. Still, the promise of the coming food was enough to keep my good mood afloat. “Meteor!” I answered as I pulled out a twenty dollar bill and slapped it down. “That covers it, yeah? I’ll take my change in coins.”

“Wow,” Gallant spoke up from behind me. I had felt him approaching, so I didn’t jump. “That’s… a surprising amount of food for a girl your size.”

I didn’t want to get Panacea in trouble by saying anything that might implicate her helping me—even if her helping me wasn’t reason enough, she seemed alright when we chatted over PHO—so instead I turned to him and replied, “Well I was dieting until recently, but my doctor told me, um, I was overdoing it and needed to stop for now.” A lie, but close enough to the truth I should be able to remember it.

“I… see.” 

The guy at the counter started to set my change on the counter only to squeak when they floated out of his hand and began to float around me in a lazy ring of coins. Faultline and Armsmaster were walking over now, apparently having been discussing something quietly between themselves, and Faultline crossed her arms when she saw the coins. I pouted and directed them into the back pocket of my jeans. _Spoilsport._

“Do you think…” Gallant started to speak up before pausing.

“Think what?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“No, never mind,” he responded, sounding strange as he turned to the counter to order. “I’m sure your doctor can handle it.”

I chuckled, thinking of my last message to my ‘doctor.’ I would have to let ‘Doctor Amy’ know what Gallant had said. I bet she would get a laugh out of it too.

Gallant finished up his order, and Faultline and Armsmaster followed after. I gave the older hero a bewildered look when he only ordered a black coffee. _Who the hell goes to a burger joint and orders a black coffee?_ I thought, but I was distracted from further musing by a different employee handing over a tray packed with all the food I had ordered along with an empty cup.

“Here, let me take that to a table for you,” Gallant said, swooping in before I could so much as start to lift it.

I blinked and looked to Faultline as he started off with my food, and she remarked, “You’re fine. Don’t eat anything until I scan it.”

Okay, I’ll admit I whined that time. But I could hardly be blamed for that when I had a mouth watering, piping hot feast just waiting for me to dig into it. I grumbled as I took the cup Gallant had left behind and stomp—I mean, _with no visible irritation whatsoever_ moved over to the fountain machine and filled my cup with coke. Gallant had already returned to the counter to get his food, and the three of them joined me at the table in short order once the remainder of the food—and the coffee, ick—was provided. Faultline took the seat next to me and set about using a tinkertech device to scan for food tampering while I struggled to stop myself from bouncing with excitement.

“Okay, Meteor, you can…” Faultline started to say but stopped, since I had already yanked my scarf down and started stuffing loaded tots in my face.

 _Omigod, these are sooo goooood_ , I thought as the flavors mingled in my mouth. The tots were perfectly crisp, which neatly counterbalanced the oozy texture of the nacho cheese and the chunky consistency of the chili. Any of the three individual flavors alone would have been excellent, but _together_?

“Meteor.”

“Hm?” I turned to look at her. I swallowed the mouthful of tots I had been chewing then asked, “What’s up?”

“Armsmaster asked you if you would be interested in a tech exchange,” she said, and I didn’t miss the significance in her voice. We had rehearsed what questions we might encounter during the exchange, and the likelihood of the Tinkers across the table asking tinkertech related things was an obvious possibility.

“I’m certain we could come to an agreeable fee,” Armsmaster carefully added, his voice low. I could appreciate why. It was probably a big PR hit for the heroes having lunch with mercenaries in a public place, even more so if somebody leaked a picture of us returning boots that people in the know would recognize as belonging to Dauntless. And by _if somebody leaked_ , I really meant _when_ , seeing as Aisha was here in the crowd in plainclothes for the express purpose of getting such a photo. Faultline was devious like that, and the flip-side of that PR would be good for us. _See_ , prospective employers? Even the protectorate has to turn to us to recover their gear.

Not that it went down that way, but hey, they don’t know that.

“Not interested, sorry,” I remarked with a shrug as I popped the last of that order of tots into my mouth, savoring the flavor while turning my attention to the massive box containing my triple-stacked burger. “Trade secret.”

Gallant had removed the bottom portion of his helmet in order to eat, but even so, I almost missed it when his lips quirked into a frown just before he brought his burger to his face and took a bite. Armsmaster took a sip of his coffee before replying, “That is… unfortunate. On a related note, have you considered—”

“I hope you’re not about to try to poach someone from my crew in front of me, Armsmaster.”

“I am obligated to ask,” the man stiffly countered.

“And I am obligated to not give you the finger,” I cheekily replied, earning me a choking sound from Gallant as a piece of his burger went down the wrong pipe, a tightening of the thin line Armsmaster’s lips had become, and a minute sigh from Faultline. “What? You said I couldn’t give him the finger, not that I couldn’t _tell_ him I couldn’t give him the finger.”

“I apologize, Armsmaster,” Faultline said, her tone carefully neutral. “Gregor would have been my preferred choice for this meeting, but your director specifically requested her. I presume because she wanted you to give your pitch.”

“She’s saying I’m a crude bitch who speaks what’s on her mind,” I said to Gallant in a Shakespearean aside. “She’s not wrong.”

“Yes, well—”

“Hey, Gallant,” I interrupted, not giving Armsmaster a chance to process. But then, that _was_ the plan. “Wanna go flying? We could go to a junkyard and look for parts!”

“I, uh…” The teen’s head tilted ever so slightly towards Armsmaster. “We weren’t supposed to bring ge—”

“It’s not _here_ , duh. I can summon it! Cool as fuck, right? So c’mon, I can finish my food while we fly, then I’ll pick up some more when I bring you back. It’ll be _fun_!”

“ _Meteor_ ,” Faultline sternly interjected. Yikes. If I hadn’t known it was part of the act, I would have legitimately thought she was mad.

“Fiiine,” I acquiesced, letting my head flop backwards a bit to stare at the ceiling and sell the show. “I can wait.” I waited all of a second before pulling my head back up and grabbing my burger to take a bite. “Hughly scheet, dhish eesh gooooo,” I muttered around a mouthful of food, only partially acting. It _was_ that good. The crew had gotten me some food from here my first night at Palanquin, but it was so much better fresh.

“Getting back to other matters then. My crew and I deeply apologize for putting the Protectorate and PRT in a bad position on Sunday. We would like to find a way to make that up to you and would be willing to cut you a discount on any jobs for which you may require third party assistance.”

“Noted,” Armsmaster grunted. “I’ll pass word up to Director Piggot. If that was all, then Gallant and I have other matters that require tending to.”

“Always in such a rush, but I suppose this _is_ Brockton Bay. Very well then. Please do pass along our offer. Come along, Meteor.”

“Whaaa?” I said with wide-eyes before hastily swallowing the bite of burger in my mouth. “But take-homesies!”

“Later,” she drawled in response. I scowled and started to wrap up my half-eaten burger. At least I had a second order of tots to tide me over as well.

“Bye!” I waved cheerfully once all my food was packed up. “It was nice meeting you or whatever!”

Gallant coughed, but Armsmaster’s expression didn’t shift in the slightest. Faultline and I took our trays up to the front to get bags, then we made our way to the side door with the eyes of most of the restaurant still following us as we left. I had to actively repress the urge to preen under the attention. It was kind of nice to be in costume—well, kinda in costume—while not on the job. Once we stepped outside, we angled towards the getaway car we had left in place early this morning, and I popped open the doors as we approached.

“Let’s go,” Faultline said as I settled into the passenger seat.

“Aye aye, boss!” I replied with a grin before rapidly lifting the car into the sky. I felt Gallant and Armsmaster’s helmets reach the door of the restaurant, so I paused long enough to lower the window and call out, “Catch you later!” before zooming off.

“So I think that went well,” I said conversationally as I steered us towards the Trainyards up north. There were no traffic cameras or PRT presence up there, so even though it carried a slight risk of drawing the ABB’s attention, it was the easiest way to make a clean getaway.

“It was passable,” she retorted as she fooled with a device designed to kill off any outgoing signals on the off chance the PRT had placed trackers on every vehicle nearby. Like the device she had used earlier in Fugly Bob’s and the comms system we used in Providence, it was tinkertech, and I was sure she had paid a pretty penny for it. With all the nonsense Tinkers could do, I could see why she would want people to think we had one on staff. Hell, it would probably be a good idea to _actually_ get one on the crew, since Aisha’s power apparently worked well enough for maintenance but didn’t afford her enough time to actually build anything of substance. “You made those coins move earlier, but you were _supposed_ to not do anything to suggest you had ‘equipment’ on you.”

“Whoops.” I winced. Her ire earlier abruptly made a lot more sense. “That’s my bad… Won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” she replied, but there was no heat in her words. Only a minor screw up then. That was good. She removed her welder’s mask and said, “Okay. We’re clean. Set us down in that alley on your two.”

I pulled up a mental picture of an analog clock to double check myself then moved us down to the empty alley she had indicated while tugging my goggles up and off and unwrapping my scarf from my neck. Despite dropping us down rapidly to avoid prying eyes, I hastily put on the brakes—so to speak—before setting us down on the ground. Faultline started up the car then smoothly pulled out of the alley and into the street. One person halfway down the block was lounging on the stairs leading up to a ratty apartment building, but if they had noticed us flying through the sky, then they were doing an admirable job of feigning non-interest.

“So,” Melanie suddenly said, “Masuyo spoke with Gregor and I last night. She said you approved her working for Gregor.”

I had been halfway through retrieving my burger and paused in unwrapping it. “Yeah. She’s cool or whatever.”

She made a noncommittal noise but said nothing further, so I turned my attention back to my burger and gave into the ravenous hunger that I swore would consume me from within if I didn’t eat something pronto. Neither of us said anything, and without the radio on to fill the silence, I felt just a hair bit self-conscious about how I sounded while eating and tried to tone it down a bit. I finally finished off the last few bits of tots not too long after, but despite the exorbitant amount of food I had just consumed, I _still_ felt hungry. I glanced out the window forlornly only for my eyes to widen when they spied familiar golden arches.

“Um, Melanie?”

“Yes, June?”

“Take-homesies?”

Her lips quirked upwards just a hair. “I suppose ‘later’ is a bit of an open-ended promise,” she remarked, and I cheered as she diverted towards the McDonald’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned the structure of this arc around having that first scene be a PHO scene, and I stuck to it for at least this once, but... Yeah, never writing another PHO scene. That was... ick. 
> 
> Next chapter will see the crew in Philly, which is where we'll be for the rest of the arc. After this arc will be a big homecoming that is gonna be so interesting to write 


	19. Bell 3.3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I need to get better at time management. But hey, ignore that clock! It's totally still Friday in Alaska!
> 
> Also, spoilers for the original Star Wars trilogy ahead. I'd like to presume y'all have all seen them (Return of the Jedi turns forty in 2023!), but since our heroine hasn't seen the movies, it feels a little hypocritical to not put up a warning in advance. So if you haven't seen them, then get a Disney+ subscription and c'mon back when you're done!

“We are here,” Gregor announced as he turned off the street. 

Aisha turned to glance out the window, and I leaned over her lap to do the same and blinked, somewhat taken aback. “Wait,” I spoke up, “are we renting a house?”

The house was made of a gray stone and trimmed with pale red wood in an old style—Victorian maybe? That sort of thing wasn’t really my forte—that looked a little uncared for. A couple rocking chairs made of differently colored woods were laid out on the covered porch, and what looked like an old school lantern but was probably an electric look-alike stood sentinel over the furniture. I could feel a decently heavy metal knocker on the door but couldn’t quite see it from where we were sitting in the driveway in front of the double-wide door to the attached garage. I also detected a SUV on the other side of the door, but whether by chance or foreknowledge, Gregor was idling on the side without it.

“Sort of,” was Melanie’s ambiguous answer as she brought her phone to her face.

I leaned forward and glanced at Masuyo and Elle, the latter of whom had been having a reasonably good day, but they mutely shook their heads to indicate they had no idea.

“Hey, we just arrived. Can you open the garage?”

I twisted around to glance back at Newter, who shrugged and remarked, “Don’t ask me.”

 _Well, whatevs. We’ll find out in a minute anyway._ I turned back around and remarked, “Y’know, I could just lift the door.”

Melanie shot me a look as she tapped her phone before stowing it in her pocket. “That would be rude, and powers are not the answer to everything.”

“I mean, _mine_ could be,” Aisha countered with a wide grin, prompting Melanie to divert her look to Aisha instead.

The door started to shudder open in that slow, groaning way that only a garage door could manage, and Melanie finally explained, “An old friend has been fixing up this house as a bed and breakfast, and she was kind enough to give us a discount on lodging.”

Was a discount the only reason we were staying in Philly? It seemed unlikely, but Melanie hadn’t actually explained _why_ we had come here in particular. Philly was a nearly 6 hour drive from Brockton Bay when taking only the bare minimum stops, so it certainly wasn’t because the city was conveniently nearby like Boston or even New York, which we had passed by on the way here. I had tried to wheedle everyone into diverting to Brooklyn instead, since I was feeling awfully homesick, but Melanie hadn’t been remotely dissuaded and had kept us on course. Still, I suppose the neighborhood looked safe at least. It was the sort of street with trees and flora dotting reasonably trimmed yards that were cordoned off by little fences that one could easily hope over with minimal effort, but the city was still visibly within sight, just a scant few blocks down. Time would tell if the city would actually have anything worthwhile. The zoo seemed like a promising outing at least, based on my investigation on PHO. Hopefully Elle would like it.

The door _finally_ finished rising, and Gregor pulled forward into the garage. It was actually somewhat spacious, though most of that space was filled with tools and supplies that were probably being used to fix up the place, going off what Melanie said. We all started unbuckling our seatbelts, and once Gregor slid the van into park, we began to slip out.

I was just climbing out behind Aisha when the door into the house all but flung open, revealing a brunette with tanned skin and faintly visible muscles. Her eyes locked onto Melanie, and with a wide, toothy smile, she cried, “Mel! It’s been too long!”

In no time, she was sweeping Melanie up into a hug, leaving our boss somewhat flustered. “Yes, it has, but there’s no need to make a scene, Ariel.”

“A scene? Nonsense! Greeting a good friend you haven’t seen in years isn’t ‘making a scene,’ it’s appropriate behavior!” Newter, Aisha, and I snickered at the look that elicited from Melanie, and the sound drew Ariel’s attention our way. “Ah, but this is your crew yes? Welcome, welcome! I’m Ariel, and it’s a pleasure to house you during your stay.”

“Thank you very much for your hospitality,” Masuyo responded, her straight-laced words prompting me to roll my eyes.

“Sheesh, over the top much, cuz?” I joked, lightly elbowing her.

“It’s not over the top to thank your host!”

“Ladies, ladies,” Ariel interjected with what seemed like amusement dancing in her eyes, “There’s no need to fight over me!”

“What?” Masuyo and I both flatly intoned, utterly thrown by the non-sequitur.

Melanie meanwhile groaned and facepalmed. “I see you haven’t changed one bit, Ariel. May we come in?”

Ariel gasped before stepping back out of the way and gesturing broadly at the open door, her behavior edging into over dramatic. _Is this how she really acts, or is she being over-the-top on purpose?_ “My god, where are my manners? Come in, come in! Welcome to The Vermilion Flycatcher!”

Aisha and I exchanged a confused look as Melanie and Masuyo stepped through the door, and Elle spoke up, quietly asking, “Vermilion Flycatcher? Like the bird?”

“Indubitably, little miss!” our host exuberantly replied. “They nested in the forest by where I grew up in Arizona and sang each Spring. They’ve always held a dear place in my heart, so when this little gem showed up on the market, how could I resist naming it so? But to recognize the name as avian straightaway—might you perchance be a fellow bird lover?”

“Yes,” Elle shyly answered, but she didn’t retreat into herself despite the extra attention on her. “I… Well, sometimes I can’t do much. I like to enjoy nature when that happens, but I’ve never seen a Vermilion Flycatcher myself.” A smile found its way to my face. I hadn’t ever spent time in the parks in Brooklyn, but I had walked with her to the small park by Palanquin a couple of times, and it was actually kind of nice. In any case, it was good to know that Elle was getting at least _some_ happiness on her bad days.

Gregor moved towards the door from where he had been grabbing bags out of the back of the van, and when he briefly turned back to meet my eye before crossing the threshold, I tossed him a quick nod to let him know I hadn’t forgotten I needed to get the rest out.

“Excellent! Then you simply must make time to visit the zoo while you’re here!”

“Bird talk’s cool or whatevs, but I’m headin’ inside,” Aisha muttered to me before stepping around Elle and heading to the door. Newter jumped up onto the van then back to the ground behind Ariel before tossing a jaunty wave goodbye over his shoulder.

“Be in soon,” I called after them before glancing to Elle and grinning at the hopeful look she was giving me. “Well I’d _meant_ for it to be a surprise,” I groused, tossing Ariel a brief, mild glare, “but yeah, I’d already been planning to take you this weekend after we’d settled in a bit. I figured you’d like all the animals, and they apparently have a rogue called ‘Menagerie’ who transforms into animals and does shows.”

Her eyes sparkled with visible excitement at my confession, so I gave myself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. “That sounds like a lot of fun!” she breathed out with quiet enthusiasm. “Yes, I’d love to go!”

“Aw, you go girl, getting a date!” Ariel interjected, heavily patting me on the shoulder with a grin. I sputtered, and Elle blushed brightly. “I’ll leave you two love _birds_ —” _Oh god,_ puns _too?_ “—alone, shall I? Come on in at your own pace!” And before I could recover from being shocked into a mild stupor, Ariel pranced—for there could be no other word to describe the way the woman moved in that moment—over to the door and vanished through it.

I stared after her, debating whether I had just imagined that interaction, and eventually I turned to Elle, hoping to find some sense of reason there. Unfortunately, there was none to be found. My friend’s blush only intensified when she turned to meet my gaze, and she promptly and silently fled into the house. That left me staring after _her_ and wondering what had just happened.

 _Does she have a crush on me?_ I pondered as I flexed my power to lift the remaining bags out of the back of the van using my orbs, which we had laced all of the bags with. _What if she does? Does that matter? What am I saying, of_ course _it matters! But would it make things different? I mean, after all, I really like spending time with her, and I don’t want that to change. Wait, wait, wait, ‘I like spending time with her’? Does_ that _mean something? Do_ I _have a crush on_ her _? Fuck me, what if_ I’m _the one with the crush, and she’s embarrassed because it’s really obvious, and—_

I was yanked out of my spiraling thoughts with an “oof!” when, lost in thought, I ran headlong into Gregor. I would have fallen square on my ass, but thankfully he wasn’t nearly as affected by our collision and reached out to steady me. The bags I had been holding in the air weren’t quite as lucky, but it didn’t sound like anything broke when they crashed to the ground. “Is everything okay, Juniper?”

“‘Course it is!” I replied. _Jesus, why do I sound all high and brittle?_ “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You looked distressed and did not respond when I asked what was wrong,” he carefully explained, his normally slow cadence even slower as he stared at me funnily. “Then you walked into me as if I were not here. I believe it is understandable to question whether everything is okay, no?”

“Ah. Um.” I nervously glanced through the vestibule’s door into what appeared to be a foyer. Melanie, Masuyo, and Ariel were talking in there, and though they didn’t appear to have noticed me bumping into Gregor, the thought they could be listening in made me even more flustered. “Um. So I, um…”

Gregor glanced behind him at where I was looking, then he gently laid his hand on my upper back and steered me out of the vestibule and back into the garage before quietly shutting the door behind us. “We are alone now. You may speak freely. Is everything okay?”

I opened and closed my mouth silently for a bit longer, trying to find the right words, and when I couldn’t find them, I decided, _Fuck it_ , and just blurt out, “Does Elle like me?”

I had gotten much better at reading Gregor’s expressions, even in dark areas, so despite the dimness of the garage, I didn’t miss the faint confusion that spread across his face. “Yes? I believe it clear that Elle enjoys your presence.”

“No, no, no, I mean… Ugh!” I started pacing almost without realizing it. “I mean, does she _like like_ me?”

“Oh. _Oh_ , I see,” he remarked as the ridges where his eyebrows would have been rose. “ _You_ like Elle then?”

“I don’t know!” I blurted. The urge to start swirling metal around me was almost overwhelming, but both of my backpacks were in the other room, and if I went back into the vestibule, then someone _else_ might notice I was acting weird and— _ugh_!

“What has brought this on? Did something happen? You weren’t like this a few minutes ago.”

“Ariel, she… We were talking about birds because Vermilion Flycatcher, right? I mentioned I was gonna surprise Elle by taking her to the zoo this weekend, Elle got excited, and Ariel was like, ‘You got a date!’ then Elle got all red in the face, and I felt _weird_ , then Elle left while things were still all awkward, and—”

“Juniper,” Gregor interjected, cutting off my rant by putting a hand on my shoulder and shaking me just a bit. “You may stop. I think I understand.”

“You do?” I doubted I would understand anything after that jumbled mess of an explanation, and I was there!

“Earlier this week, do you remember asking me to look after Elle?”

“Yes…?” I responded, not sure where he was going with this.

“I mentioned at that time Elle does not need supervision, but even since then, you have never left her alone for long, if at all. I confess I had not suspected your feelings may lean towards… romantic—” Oh geez, I could _feel_ how violently I was flushing. “—and you may yet decide they are platonic. If nothing else, it is obvious you care about Elle.”

“W-Well, yeah? I mean, Elle’s been through a lot of shit and is _still_ going through a lot of shit, but she never lets it get her down. She always tries to be cheerful and upbeat, to look on the bright side and make the bad days better, y’know? It’s really nice spending time with her, and I want to do things to make up for the bad times, so I… I…” I trailed off.

 _Holy shit, maybe I_ do _like Elle?_ My legs felt weak, and I half slumped backwards, my butt and lower back coming to rest against the still warm hood of the van. My shirt had ridden up a bit, and the feeling of the metal against my skin blessedly helped ground me. “Gregor, you’ve gotta help me! I have no idea how to be in a relationship! I’m probably the worst person to be in a relationship with! Fuck, what do I do?”

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t Gregor bursting into laughter. When I glared at him in a mixture of incredulity and indignation, he paused chuckling long enough to explain, “I apologize, but this is the first time you’ve had an issue that is stereotypical of a teenager. I am laughing with relief, I assure you.”

That somewhat mollified me, but I still crossed my arms and huffed. “That doesn’t exactly help me figure out what to _do_.”

“I would talk to Elle.”

“Wha— easier said than done!”

“Yes, it is.” I goggled at him in disbelief, and he chuckled again. “I never said it would be easy, but that is where I would begin. Communication is important.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. “Talk to her.”

“Talk to her,” he confirmed.

“F-Fine, I’ll… I’ll _try_.”

“That is all we can ever do,” he sagely responded, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes behind my hands. “Take your time and stay here until you are ready to come in. I will take care of the bags.”

“But…” I started to object, but when Gregor held up his hand in a stopping gesture, I huffed out another breath of air and plopped back down against the van, enjoying the feeling of the metal on my back. “Okay. Thanks, Gregor.”

“You are welcome. Also, if I may offer one other piece of advice: Do not try to force things. If a relationship happens, it happens. If you remain friends, then that is good as well.”

I snorted. “Sounds like something outta a fortune cookie.”

“I do enjoy Chinese food,” he replied with a teasing smile as he turned back to the door and left me to my thoughts.

* * *

[A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. . . .]

I yelped and gripped Elle’s arm in surprise when orchestral music abruptly flared out of the TV set. Aisha and Newter snickered loudly, and I gave Aisha, who seated on the couch to my right and therefore the closest target of my ire, a baleful glare. “It is _not_ funny,” I hissed. “None of you warned me that would happen!”

“Apologies,” Gregor remarked. “Even knowing you have not seen these movies, it is easy to forget you will not know some things that are otherwise well known.”

“You’re missing the story intro,” Masuyo pointed out, and when I turned back to the screen from where I had been scowling at Aisha, I was surprised to find a wall of text scrolling up the screen. “Wha— I thought this was a movie?”

“It is?”

“What movie has a novel at the beginning?”

“I would hardly call a few paragraphs of text a novel,” Melanie chimed in with a hint of a smirk.

“That’s not— you can’t— _Mean_!”

“Very articulate,” Newter contributed. “Clearly that’s why the text is bothering her. She can no English well.”

“I swear to god, Newts, I can’t touch you myself, but that won’t stop me from putting a coin through your skull!”

“It’s starting,” Elle softly said, lightly squeezing my arm, stopping my ire in its tracks.

“Right, sorry,” I replied, much more quietly than I had been speaking a few moments prior. Ariel shot me a very unsubtle double thumbs up, and when I shot her a death glare, she returned the look with a wide grin before retracting her hands.

I did my best to leave that bucket of worms alone and focus on the movie. The last of the text was scrolling up—apparently a princess was trying to get home with stolen plans while being pursued—and the camera moved to focus on a planet with two moons in orbit over it. Almost immediately two ships, one _much_ larger than the other, flew into the frame, and we were thrown straight into action. I let myself settle into watching the movie, enjoying the opportunity for what it was. We had never had many movies around the apartment while I was growing up, so I was actually really excited to see these films, especially since they were apparently classics. Newter had said he preferred something else called ‘Star Trek’ more but had nevertheless agreed these movies were still a must watch.

My enthusiasm started to wane somewhat after about ten solid minutes of the two robots tooling around a desert and getting into shenanigans while the talking gold one bitched at the beeping shorter one, and I finally asked, “Is there going to be much more of this?”

“Nah,” Aisha replied. “Intro shit. They’re gonna get bought by this farmer dude, and—”

“Spoiler alert!” Ariel cried out. “Shush-ola!”

“Hey, she _asked_.”

“She asked if this was going to continue for long, not what was going to happen!”

“Yeah, Aisha,” Newter said, throwing in his two cents. “The line separating those isn’t exactly a fine one.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” I cut in, before they could continue bickering, “I got my answer. So, y’know, thanks for that or whatevs.”

The movie did shift gears not long after, and though it still didn’t grab my attention much at first, I got a lot more interested before long. It wasn’t until Vader started choking a guy without touching him that I spoke up again. “Holy shit, that’s crazy. People actually thought powers were like this when capes first started popping up?”

“This movie came out years before the first capes,” Melanie answered.

“Wait, really?” I replied, flummoxed. “Then where the hell did they get the idea from?”

“Who’s to say?” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “This series exists on Earth Aleph as well, where the creator, George Lucas, went on to make three more entries. Unfortunately, his counterpart here on Bet died not long after episode six was released, so we’ll never know how capes might have influenced the series.”

It was still kinda crazy to listen to how similar yet different Earth Aleph was from our world, especially since the differences all seemed to boil down to _Bet got capes in the early 80s and got crazy afterward_. “So wait, there are _six_ of these movies?”

“Yes, but the first movie, this one, is actually Episode Four. We’re just watching the original trilogy tonight,” Melanie clarified, though her explanation left me feeling more confused.

“Uh…”

“Oh, Luke,” Elle whispered, squeezing my hand.

I blinked, looked down at where somewhere along the way we’d begun holding hands, then shook my head before focusing back on the movie. Luke had just arrived back at the moisture farm and was calling out to his relatives. Before long, he properly took a look at the damage that had been wrought while he was away and seemed to realize he was too late. I squeezed her hand back as the scene transitioned away and winced once I realized Vader and his lackeys were going to torture Leia. _Goddamn, that’s a hell of a one-two punch_.

When the movie eventually ended on a high note a while later, I languidly stretched to get the feeling back in my muscles. “Well that was an interesting movie, I guess. So if that was number four—” _Ugh, what a dumb numbering system._ “—and we’re watching a trilogy, then we’re watching five and six next?”

“Not before I get more popcorn,” Newter quipped as he smoothly leapt to his feet and stalked off towards the Flycatcher’s large kitchen.

“Yo, hold up, you overcooked it last time!” Aisha called out as she scrambled to follow.

“Want anything, Elle?” I asked, turning to her.

“Water please?” she asked, holding up her glass. Though she turned towards me and met my eyes, her own were starting to look a bit unfocused. Where she anyone else, I might have thought she was just readjusting to not looking at the screen or maybe even just tired, but I had started to learn the signs that a bad day was building and recognized what was happening.

“Sure thing,” I gently said, carefully taking the glass from her hands before rising to my feet and moving to the kitchen, where Newter and Imp were bickering about the best method for cooking popcorn.

“I’m telling ya, break up the dust on the kernels first by squishing the bag back ‘n’ forth!”

“I’ve never heard that ever, and there was nothing wrong with that popcorn!”

I snorted but stayed out of it, since I didn’t particularly care one way or the other. I had more than filled up on our actual dinner before we started the first movie. I added a few pieces of ice to the glass before topping it up with water from the fridge’s dispenser then made my way back toward the living room. To my surprise, I found Masuyo had moved over to my seat from where she had been sitting by Gregor. 

“Uh. What’re you doing?” I asked, only just barely keeping the sharpness out of my tone.

“Your hair,” Masuyo replied with a raised eyebrow. _Whoops. Guess I didn’t quite keep myself in check._ “Come here and sit down.”

“What’re you gonna do to it?” I suspiciously asked.

“Braid it. I think you’ll like it.”

I dithered, biting my lip in consideration. Part of me wanted to just focus on the next two movies, but having your hair braided was a feminine right of passage or had seemed that way to me. Perhaps it was a bit silly to think of it like that, but I really wanted to experience it at least once. “Okay. But I reserve the right to hate it.”

Masuyo rolled her eyes but gestured at the carpet in front of her. I swore I saw Melanie smirk, but I pointedly ignored her as I cautiously handed Elle her glass. Once I was sure she had a secure grip on it, I plopped down between Masuyo’s legs, and her hands almost immediately dove into my hair. Aisha and Newter only spared mine and Masuyo’s new positions a passing glance, _somehow_ still debating the merits of different popcorn cooking methods, and before long, Ariel was starting the fifth— _What a stupid numbering scheme!_ —episode. The gentle tugging and manipulation of my hair was actually kind of soothing, and I felt a bit of a smile creeping onto my face as we watched. I perked back up though when Luke and the other rebels began to fly cables around the large, lumbering Imperial walking ships.

“Hey Melanie, we should get some cords, so I can do that!” I might have been able to make them myself, but my fine control wasn’t very good, so I probably couldn’t.

“Oi, quiet in the theater!” Aisha jeered.

“Yes, quiet in the theater, Aisha,” Melanie drawled with a quirked eyebrow at a much more reasonable volume. “And noted, June. I’ll talk to my contacts tomorrow while you’re all out shopping.”

The trio of leads split up in different directions just before the Imperials took the Rebel base, and though I enjoyed the twist that the Millennium Falcon had landed inside of a creature the size of an asteroid, I couldn’t help but speak up about it. “Isn’t that, like, scientifically impossible or whatever?”

“In what way?” Masuyo asked, sounding distracted. She then grunted and brushed out my hair with her fingers to restart, having apparently made a mistake.

“Duh. The hell is a huge ass critter like that gonna eat on an asteroid?” Aisha answered, clearly picking up on what was bothering me.

“I think it’s plausible,” Newter said before swallowing the mouthful of popcorn he had been chewing. “I mean, nobody’s seen an Endbringer eat, right?”

Everyone turned to look at him incredulously, but Aisha was the one who spoke up first. “Dude. Not cool.”

“It was relevant to the conversation!” he defensively exclaimed under the weight of everyone’s stink eye. “Besides, it’s not like talking about them jinxes them to appear or whatever!”

“Who fucking cares about some dumbass superstition?” I bit out. “You don’t just bring them up. Everybody’s got someone they know who’s died to one of those monsters, so it is _not_ cool.”

“Fine, fine!” he said, his tail agitatedly whipping back and forth through the air over the armchair he was in. “Let’s just watch the movies, yeah?”

The silence over the group, ordinarily not out of place when watching a movie, felt heavy and oppressive as we watched Luke continue his training on Dagobah. The funk didn’t dispel until quite some time later when Masuyo abruptly declared, “Finished!”

I blinked, having grown so comfortable with my hair being played with that I had all but forgotten there was an end goal. “Lemme see!” I enthusiastically blurted before coughing and shooting the snickering Aisha and Newter a glare. “I mean, um, I’d like to see a picture? When you get the chance, that is.”

“Sure, sure, hang on,” Masuyo muttered as she fished in her pocket for her phone. “Right, okay. Turn back around and hold still.”

A few seconds later, she passed the phone forward, and I stared at the picture on the screen. It was a relatively simple braid, and there were spots where it was tighter, looser, or even a hair lopsided. It certainly wasn’t the prettiest braid I’d ever seen on a girl, but it was still a braid. On _my_ head.

“Sorry, I know it’s not the best,” she said, sounding anxious when I didn’t say anything. “I haven’t had a chance to practice in years, but I can—”

“I love it.”

I twisted around to look at her, and I couldn’t have hid the goofy grin on my face even if I had wanted to. She blinked, caught off guard by the compliment, but the surprise softened into a small smile with what looked like fondness in her eyes. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Pretty,” Elle agreed, her hand softly feathering over the top of my hair, prompting me to duck my head a bit to hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks.

I heard Ariel quietly ask Melanie, “Has she never had her hair braided before?” and stiffened as I waited to see how my boss would respond.

“They grew up apart and only recently discovered they were family,” Melanie replied, deftly leaving the truth intact while massaging it into something more palatable and easier to explain.

“And on that note, if we’re all ready to resume the movie?” Aisha spoke up with a hint of humor and just a touch of impatience in her voice.

“One sec,” Masuyo said as she rose to her feet and moved back to the loveseat Gregor was sitting on. “Let me give June back her seat. I’m sure she’s tired of sitting on the floor.”

I was, truth be told. The carpet could only soften the hardwood floor underneath so much, and it just wasn’t comparable to the cushy seat of the couch. I pushed up off the ground and settled back down on the couch between Aisha and Elle, the latter of whom was still staring at my shoulder next to her and the braided hair now draped over it.

“Alrighty!” Ariel said, once everyone was back in place. “Here… we… a-go!”

The movie resumed with Luke arriving on the planet with the city in the clouds, and the rest of the group was forced to watch as the Empire set about freezing Han. I rose an eyebrow at the ‘I know’ line from the smuggler, but I had to admit the line did seem to fit him. _Still a stupid response to someone telling you they love you_. I wasn’t internally lambasting him for long though, since in short order a duel broke out between Luke and Vader.

“Oh man,” Aisha whispered, sounding gleeful as she practically bounced with excitement on the cushion to my right. “Get ready for this shit, Junebug.”

“What, the fight?” I whispered back, my eyes still riveted to the screen as the two traded blows in the chamber where Han had been frozen.

“Shush-ola!” Ariel said from her spot, her eyes glinting with something I couldn’t identify in the poor illumination the TV provided the otherwise dark room. “No spoilers!”

Everyone remained quiet after that until Vader parried Luke’s frantic blow and sliced off the hand holding his lightsaber. Elle made a distressed sound and squeezed my hand, and I quietly murmured soothing words to her, though I couldn’t possibly have told you what they were, since my focus was split with the movie playing out on the screen.

“Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.”

“He told me enough,” Luke painfully replied, as he tried to put distance between himself and his enemy. “He told me you killed him.”

“No,” Vader intoned. “I am your father.”

I sat bolt upright from where I had begun to slouch into the cushions. “No fucking way.”

“Yeeesssss!”Aisha crowed before cackling gleefully while Newter and Gregor both chuckled as well. I finally dragged my eyes away from the screen when someone paused the movie, and while Masuyo looked vaguely uncomfortable, I saw Ariel was grinning widely and Melanie was openly smirking. I whipped back around to face Elle on my left, and though she wasn’t smiling or laughing, she clearly wasn’t surprised either.

I slumped back into the chair, shaking my head in disbelief. “I can’t… He’s… _Really_?”

“Really,” Newter confirmed, looking inordinately pleased.

I had only two words for that: “Holy shit.”

The shock from the revelation lasted well into the next movie, and though I felt a hint of weariness begin creeping up on me after a long day’s road trip followed by a movie marathon, I forced myself to stay awake. Aisha and Newter would never let me live it down if I fell asleep. Elle, however, felt no such compunctions and started to fall asleep around the time Jabba took the heroes out over the sands to be killed. She tried to snuggle up into me but couldn’t seem to get comfortable on my arm. Unsure what to do, I tried moving my arm a bit, and she abruptly slipped underneath it and laid her head down on my lap. I felt self-conscious since everyone was _right there_ , but when her breathing evened out a few minutes later, I knew there was no way I could bear to disturb her.

Eventually, around an hour and a half later, the credits finally began to roll. Ariel paused the film, and everyone but me stretched out their sleepy limbs as they began to fully move once more. 

“So what did you think, Juniper?” Gregor asked.

“I liked it,” I confirmed. “The low end effects didn’t bother me or anything, since the movies were made decades ago, and that reveal in the middle movie… I still cannot even.”

The rest of the crew seemed to accept that assessment, and I could clearly see they had all had a good time as well.

“Okay, does everyone remember where their rooms are?” Ariel chirped, somehow still cheery despite the six hour marathon.

We all answered in the affirmative, and I gently shook Elle’s shoulder and whispered, “It’s time to get up.”

It took a moment, but she slowly twisted in place to look up. Her eyelids sluggishly crept open to reveal the pale blue eyes hiding behind them, and her gaze was definitely unfocused, more aimed at the ceiling than at me. “Sleep?” she said, the barest hint of a whine in the word.

“Soon,” I promised. “The movie just ended. We’ve gotta get you to bed.”

She sat up with my help and didn’t grumble any further about being awoken, but if I wasn’t off my mark about her beginning to slip into a bad day, then that probably had a lot to do with it.

“Do you need help getting upstairs and ready for bed?” I asked, once she was upright in her own seat.

She responded by silently trying to rise to her feet, but when she dangerously wobbled, I quickly rose to steady her, already tugging the coins I had been keeping in my casual backpack behind the couch up and into the air. I quickly siphoned out enough coins to gently keep her steady and upright, then turned to back to the rest of the group to wish them goodnight. We all started towards the stairs up to the second floor, but I suddenly stopped when a thought hit me.

“Wait, but… What is a padawan?”

“Huh?” Aisha replied behind me.

I turned around to face her, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Y’know, a padawan? That was the _thing_ , the whole reason why you said I had to watch this! You called me a ‘padawan’ at the hospital, and when I didn’t know what it was, you insisted we had to watch these movies!”

She stared at me a second, blinked a few times, then finally said, “Huh. I guess they didn’t actually use that term until Episode One.”

“You mean I have to watch more?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Much. FLUFF.
> 
> Enjoy that fluffiness, y'all, 'cause we've got a bit more coming up. Leaning into the slice of life half of this story! This chapter was originally going to have three scenes, but this two made the chapter long enough, and there was no way in hell I'd get 3.3 out on time if I didn't push that third scene back.


	20. Bell 3.4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted by midnight Friday! Hell yeah!

I moaned a bit as I stepped into the shower and the warm water from the shower head hit the tense muscles in my back. Ariel had sprung for the fancy type of shower head that could be dialed to various settings, and the high pressure massager was a godsend after the training session Melanie had just put us through earlier. I set about performing my ablutions while the pounding heat of the water worked its magic, and I found my mind wandering to tomorrow.

It was currently Sunday, and despite my intent to take Elle to the zoo yesterday or today, her power had unfortunately kept her stuck in a bad space yesterday and most of today. She had said a few things to me on the ride back to the Flycatcher after training though, so she might be making a swing back up. Depending on where she fell on the spectrum, tomorrow might be the best day to go.

 _At least it won’t be as crowded,_ I thought as I washed the last of the conditioner out of my hair. _Better double-check Menagerie does shows on weekdays though_.

I cut off the faucet and blindly fumbled about for the two towels I had laid out before hopping into the shower. I bit out a curse when I couldn’t find them and stuck my head out from behind the solid curtain. There—the damn things had apparently slipped off the toilet lid onto the floor while I was showering, so I snatched one up and swiftly set about wrapping my long, wet hair in the towel before grabbing the other and retreating into the warmth of the shower area. I towel dried myself as best as I could while savoring the last of the warmth as it began to coalesce with the cool air beyond the curtain, and once I was reasonably dry overall, I stepped out of the shower completely. The rest of the bathroom thankfully no longer felt quite so cold, and I hurried to towel off my feet and get dressed. 

Once I’d pulled on the last of my clothes, my eyes found their way to the still fogged up mirror, and I wiped away some of the fog with my towel. It still made me smile to see myself in the mirror. Yes, you could still see the old me there, but I looked more like my long-lost sister than I did like myself from a year ago.

I exited the bathroom and as expected, Elle was curled up on her bed, and though her gaze was a bit distant, she did seem to be attempting to read a book. That boded well for a trip to the zoo tomorrow. What was unexpected, however, was Aisha flopped on my bed, doing something on her phone while flat on her back.

She glanced towards the bathroom door and released an exasperated, “Finally! You’ve been in there forever.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall. _Twenty minutes is a bit long, I guess._ “Whelp, I’m here. What’s up?”

“I’m bored and wanna go shopping. Come with?”

I snorted. “Need some retail therapy?”

“Hey, it ain’t my fault all that money from our last job is burnin’ a hole in my pocket. I worked hard and deserve to splurge a bit.”

“Fair. I’m holding on to some of mine to add furniture to our room back at Palanquin, but I’ve still got a bunch to spare.” I turned to Elle and asked, “D’you wanna come with, Elle?”

Her book dipped a bit, and her head rose as her somewhat spaced out eyes rose in my direction. “Fun.”

“Cool cool cool,” Aisha said as she swiftly twisted in place to plop her feet on the floor and jump up to standing. “Let’s gooo already!”

I pointed at my hair, which was still currently wrapped up in a towel, and remarked, “Still got wet hair.”

“Put it in a bun and throw your beret on,” she replied, waving away my concern. “Boredom must die posthaste!”

 _Eh, that’s not a bad idea_ , I thought before shrugging and moving to my suitcase. After a few seconds of shuffling things around, I pulled out the pink beret Aisha had bought me the day she joined the crew. I slipped back into the bathroom, released my hair from the towel, and pulled it all into a loose bun on the back of my head. Aisha was impatiently bouncing in place by the time I carefully set the beret in place and returned to the bedroom, and I rolled my eyes at her. “What do you think, Elle?”

She was already looking my way this time, and a small smile found its way to her lips. “Cute.”

Aisha impatiently lead us out into the hallway and downstairs before loudly declaring to the house at large, “We’re going shopping, kthanks baaai!”

“Woah, woah, hold up,” Masuyo said peaking in from the living room. “You planning to walk to the store?”

“No way!” I answered with a grin. “We’ve got this thing called the June Express!”

“And I’m sure in deciding to fly over miles of the city, you’ve definitely accounted for Melanie warning everyone to keep our presence here on the down-low?” my cousin drawled with a raised eyebrow. “It would be a shame for Gregor and Newter to have sacrificed the freedom to walk outside for several days now only for you three to ruin it for the sake of shopping?”

Aisha and I shared a wince, since we had very much so forgotten all about Melanie’s mandate. Elle, however, was the practical one and pointed vaguely in the direction of the garage before intoning, “Van.”

I could move the van with my power, but I knew without a doubt that Masuyo would probably rain on that parade too. _But maybe…_ “Speaking of Gregor not being able to go outside, I’m sure he probably needs some stuff from the store, right? And you _are_ his go-fer. Win-win?”

“That’s thinking with your head,” Masuyo agreed, a hint of a smirk on her lips as she moved towards us, “and what I had in mind. Just give me a minute to go check in with him, then I’ll drive you wherever you want.”

Aisha groaned petulantly, so I gave her a teasing pat on her shoulder as Masuyo moved to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. “There there. Your boredom shall soon be killed without remorse. Just you wait.”

As it turned out, Gregor had in fact already prepared a small shopping list for Masuyo and had been intending to give it to her in the morning, but once she explained she would be driving the three of us into town anyway, he agreed it made sense to kill two birds with one stone. Some of the items were perishables, and malls tended to close early on Sundays, so we made our way there first. The quality of the storefronts reminded me much more strongly of some of the malls in Manhattan than they did of the lone, enclosed mall I had briefly visited back in Brockton Bay—that is to say the mall that _wasn’t_ the Boardwalk. Bold, clear signs, polished windows, and employees whose eyes weren’t constantly shifting around in case they were about to get shanked or stolen from. And there were no shady mall cops who looked like they wouldn’t think twice about shanking you. Perks!

“So where to first?” I asked, curiously examining the mall map posted by the entrance.

“Lessee,” Aisha muttered as she stepped closer to the map. She covered her eyes with the other hand and blindly stabbed at one of the stores with her other hand before uncovering her eyes. “That one!”

Masuyo quirked an eyebrow and asked the question that I too was wondering, “That’s really how you choose?”

“Keeps things fresh,” she replied with a shrug. “I don’t always get something, but that’s how I’ve found a few goodies I might not’ve seen otherwise.”

“If you really don’t have somewhere in particular to be, then you realize it’d probably be simpler to start at one end of the mall and work your way down, right?”

“Sounds way too organized.”

I couldn’t quite manage to suppress my giggles at that response. _How very Aisha_. “Sure, sure, whatever. But if we pass somewhere with good clothes on the way, then I reserve the right to stop. I’ve still gotta replace the better part of my wardrobe.” Most of my clothes looked somewhat ridiculous when I wore them now, including what I was currently wearing, which I was attempting to hide underneath an also no longer so well fitting jacket. Just about the only article of clothing that still fit roughly the same was my beret, and that’s because it had some give in it and was able to accommodate the extra hair.

“That don’t bother me,” she replied with a grin. “Let’s go!”

We passed not one, not two, but _three_ different shops with clothes for young women along the way, but true to her word, Aisha didn’t seem to mind the diversions. Elle mostly ended up wandering around staring at this and running a hand down that, but as for Masuyo and Aisha…

“Girl, you must be trippin’ if you think I’m gonna let you put Junebug in that.”

“This is a _lovely_ blouse, and she needs at least _some_ clothes that aren’t fit for a rave!”

“I’m not a dress up doll!” I reminded them from inside the changing room, knowing full well that even if they heard me I would be ignored. Instead I started pulling on the bright, emerald green jeans Aisha had passed over the door along with a threat of bodily harm if I didn’t come out to show them off. Having never been shopping with anyone but for my mother, and even then not since I was seven or so, I had apparently trespassed upon that most sacred rule of shopping: One does not simply try on clothes without also doing a goddamn catwalk for one’s friends. I had broken that rule straightaway back in the first shop, and despite disagreeing about basically everything else, Aisha and Masuyo had teamed up to persuade me back into the outfit for their viewing pleasure. Not their exact words, but close enough.

I finally got the skintight jeans to cooperate with my hips and zipped them up. They were high waisted and bore a few artful tears in the fabric, and though I hadn’t ever worn pants like them before, I had seen other girls wear them and knew they were considered fashionable. I unlocked the door and stepped out, but to my consternation, both Aisha or Masuyo were elsewhere in the shop picking out new items. Elle, however, had apparently grown bored with touring this particular shop and taken to leaning against the wall nearby and staring vaguely in the direction of the restock rack. Her head moved enough to indicate she had seen me, so I did a slow 360 to show the various angles and asked, “So what do you think?”

“Look nice,” Elle muttered before glancing away, her cheeks dusting a faint red.

I nervously debated what that could mean. _Dammit, does that mean she_ is _attracted to me? Or is she embarrassed because she’s figured out I might have a crush on her and she doesn’t feel the same way? Is it something else??_ Gregor’s advice sounded nice in theory, but to put it to practice, I would need to muster the gumption to actually ask Elle how she felt. I had been granted a stay of execution thus far because she had been having bad days since right after we arrived, but if she progressed to a good day tomorrow as expected, I would need to ask.

Or I could just put it off. Like, forever. That sounded safer.

Aisha ended up breaking the moment by hastily returning once she saw I was modeling the jeans. “Hell yeah, you’re totally getting those!”

“Thanks again for helping me spend my money, Aisha,” I remarked with a laugh. If Aisha or Elle noticed the anxious tint to my words, then neither commented on it.

“And as I said before,” Masuyo added as she walked up, having followed Aisha back over at a more sedate pace, “those jeans would go great with this blouse. June, you agree, right?”

She held up a cream wraparound top that was asymmetrically cut with an attached belt, and I blinked. “Isn’t that a bit too much to pair with torn jeans?”

“The jeans dress it down!” my cousin argued, ignoring Aisha’s victorious smirk. “That’s definitely a thing!”

Aisha and Masuyo resumed bickering, but I ignored them in favor of Elle when my possible crush moved to the restock rack. She reached out and retrieved a white blouse with a gold, elastic fabric sewn around the top to make it off the shoulder and matching golden shirring covering everything from the bust down. Elle glanced at the tag where the size would be then gently held it out towards me. “Please?”

“S-Sure,” I muttered, carefully accepting it while trying to suppress the heat threatening to make itself known on my cheeks once more. That was a losing battle, so I promptly fled into the dressing room and planted my back against it while I took a moment to breathe.

Once I had gotten myself back under control, I stripped off the top I had been wearing and pulled on the cream and gold one. I took a peek at the mirror before opening the door and couldn’t help but smile at the color combinations and how they looked on me. I slipped back out, and despite seemingly not noticing me depart their presence, Aisha and Masuyo _did_ notice my return.

“Oh, that’s very nice.”

“Hell yeah, that totally works!”

Eventually we left that store, among my purchases the jeans and the off the shoulder blouse, and we resumed our trek towards Aisha’s randomly chosen destination. Funnily enough, I had not actually paid much attention to _what_ Aisha’s finger had landed on earlier, or else all the shopping in between had distracted me to the point of forgetting altogether. Whatever the reason, I laughed when we reached the Sunglass Hut and Aisha declared we had arrived. As a good friend should, I pointed out that we were in currently in Autumn, which was notably _after_ the season primarily associated with sunglasses, and Aisha let me know in a purposefully sugary sweet voice exactly where I could shove my preconceptions of when to buy sunglasses. One purchase of a pair of Ray-Bans later, the music playing over the mall speakers faded away for a brief announcement that the mall would be closing in a half-hour.

All around, it was a hilarious end to our visit, and I was all smiles and grins as the four of us made our way back to the van. And if I didn’t even bother to try to call shotgun as we approached the van and instead took pleasure in sitting next to Elle in the middle… well, nobody called me on it.

* * *

“Gonna miss him!”

“Careful, I think you’re gonna yank my arm off,” I joked with a wide grin as Elle pulled me along by hand.

When we woke up this morning, it was to the good news that today was indeed a very good day for Elle, and we had promptly made plans to catch a taxi to the Philadelphia Zoo in time for the opening. My friend had dressed up comfortably but nicely for the occasion in a bright green sweater with a white houndstooth pattern and comfy jeans. Perhaps because of the colors of her outfit, I had gravitated to the shirred white and gold top she had picked for me and my new emerald green jeans, but the biting air as we passed underneath a tiger walking by overhead—this Zoo was certainly an interestingly designed place, if nothing else—made me glad for the new leather jacket I had elected to wear as an outer layer. I caught more than a few eyes glance our way as we rushed past, but I didn’t notice anyone with a dangerous gaze, so I forced myself to pay them no mind. Growing up in Brooklyn had taught me it was best to keep an eye out for safety, and the day I had gotten powers _strongly_ reinforced that notion.

The zoo administrators had built a stage with amphitheater style seating and canvas walls surrounding it all near the avian center and picnic area, and the staff had confirmed when we bought our tickets that all of Menagerie’s shows were held there. We had been touring the zoo since then as we waited for Menagerie’s first show time to come up, and despite how much Elle had clearly enjoyed all of the animals so far, it was obvious she was thrilled to see Menagerie. By the time we reached the right place, there was a bit of a line, but it thankfully didn’t seem too bad.

“See?” I remarked with a smile. “We made it in time.”

“Might not have,” she countered, but it was obvious she didn’t put much stock in the argument either. We had arrived ten minutes before the show was set to start, and as expected for a Monday in the middle of October, the Zoo was not the most packed tourist destination.

“Want some water?” I asked, gesturing at the drink stand parked nearby.

“Please!”

I smiled and made my way over. In short order I paid for the drinks with a few bills from the front pocket of my backpack, then I swung the bag back onto my shoulders and returned to where Elle was holding our spot in line. I wished I didn’t need the backpack, since it kind of ruined the look of my outfit, but experience told me I needed to keep some metal nearby for my power. I always made a point to fill my casual backpack with coins and take it with me when going out in public for precisely that reason. The last thing either of us needed was for me to get ‘altered,’ as Melanie called it, and make a scene in the middle of a crowd.

“Hey kid, no cutting in line,” a gruff, middle-aged man grunted from a few spaces back when I sidled up to Elle.

I fixed him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not. I was just getting us some water before the show,” I airily pointed out, waggling the two waters before handing one to Elle.

The guy made a noncommittal noise but let the matter drop. I turned back to my friend, and she smiled nervously. “Glad he didn’t… didn’t push it. Makes me anxious.”

“That’s what I’m for!” I told her with a grin. “You just let me handle that kind of thing, okay?”

She giggled a bit at that. “So brave!”

I winced. _Brave, huh?_ She tilted her head inquiringly when she noticed my reaction, and I almost succumbed to the temptation to not explain or even lie. Almost. _No. No, fuck that. She’s thinks I’m brave. I can be brave—I can!_ “Elle, I… I, um, w-wanted to talk.”

“Oh, u-um,” she stammered, abruptly uneasy. “A-About?”

There were a guy and girl in front of us in line who looked close to Masuyo’s age and like they might be a couple, and I swore they were casting the occasional glance back at us, but I swallowed nervously and soldiered on ahead. “So Ariel said something the other day that, um… got me thinking.” _Holy shit, is it normal to feel like you have to throw up when confessing to your crush on someone? Because goddamn, I want so badly to pick a random direction and just run like hell. That sure as hell isn’t normal, but I guess it_ is _like that in movies and TV, so—_

“June?”

A distressed noise escaped me. Also, yup, that couple was one hundred percent giving me funny looks now. Fuck my life. “Sorry, I… I’m no good at this sort of thing, and I’m probably gonna fuck it up, b-but I think I might… like you? I mean, like like you?” I blinked. “Fuck, that came out like a question. It’s not a question! Well, I guess it’s _kind_ _of_ a question, but—”

“Rambling,” she pointed out, her cheeks burning red.

“No I’m—! Dammit, I _am_ rambling, aren’t I?” I muttered, my face feeling like it was literally on fire. “Sorry. This is hella awkward, and I probably ruined your good day.”

“No!” she fervently rushed to say. “Good! Still good!”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Really,” she affirmed, grasping my free hand with her own hand. “ _Very_ good day.”

Okay, nope. My face wasn’t just on fire. It was actively being held under a blowtorch. Or Lung was breathing on me. Wait, no. Ew. The first one—definitely the first one. “Good. That’s… that’s good.”

“I thought… Aisha?”

“Huh?” I intelligently answered, nonplussed for a moment before it clicked. “Oh! _Nooo_. Aisha and I are just friends.”

“We’re friends,” she pointed out, clearly confused.

“Yes, but…” I paused, unable to help an awkward, self-deprecating laugh. “Have I mentioned I’m no good at this sort of thing?” That sent us both into a fit of giggles that took us a bit to get over. “Aisha and I are friends, and you and I are friends, but I feel… _different_ with you,” I lamely explained. “I enjoy hanging out with you both, but when you and I are together, I want to hold your hand, cuddle while sitting together, that kind of thing. Like, I don’t go on walks with Aisha. Does that make sense?”

Elle was silent for a few moments before looking down and saying, “June, I…” For a terrifying moment, I thought I was being rejected. “M-Me too, but… All this baggage. Deserve better.”

Just as quickly as it had sunk, my heart _soared_. “I know you’ve got baggage. Girl, _I’ve_ got baggage. You know I do. We could probably fill, like, a fleet of those hotel baggage carts with all the shit we’ve got shoved in the closet. I _don’t care_. I want to be with you anyway.”

I was still holding her hand from before, and before I could chicken out, I gently tugged her towards me and let go so I could wrap her up in a hug. She buried her face into my chest and clutched me tightly. She was about half a head shorter than me, so while I couldn’t rest my chin on top of her head or anything like that, she was at the perfect height for me to nuzzle her platinum blond hair. The smell of her citrus shampoo filled my nostrils, and though I had smelled it before from the bottle, it was something altogether different to smell it nose-deep in her hair. It wasn’t until I felt the people at the front of the line start moving forward that I finally started to pull away, and to my embarrassment and horror when I looked up, the girl of the couple in front of us was looking right at me and, once she saw she had my attention, she gave me a wink and a discreet thumbs up.

Fortunately, my brain didn’t have time to enter a manic spiral because the accordion effect of the line moving forward finally reached where we all were, so I did my best to shunt my attention into the act of walking forward with Elle _clutching my arm fuck yes this actually happened hell fucking yeah!_

My cheek muscles were actually hurting from smiling so much and for so long by the time Elle and I sat down. I was on cloud nine, and though I absently noted that a zoo staff member had come out on stage to hype the crowd up for the show, I didn’t really register what they were actually saying. I just cheered and clapped along with everyone else, including the smiling blond next to me, and before long Menagerie walked out onto the stage, looking a little bit silly in his stylized tan safari outfit with shorts and matching domino mask.

“And how is everyone this lovely day?” Menagerie asked once he reached the microphone stand. 

A scattered few people cheered, but far more laughed, and somewhere in the crowd someone called out, “It’s a bit cold to be ‘lovely’!”

Menagerie sputtered and comically harrumphed at that. “Cold, you say? Well, I suppose it _is_ a bit cold, but it’s not so bad if you’re an _arctic fox_!”

The body of the somewhat portly man with windswept brown hair twisted in on itself into a spherical ball of mass just over the floor and immediately ballooned out into the form of a small white fox with cute, stubby little ears. The whole transformation took perhaps the span of a second, and the crowd immediately expressed their approval with thunderous applause. I was legitimately impressed and readily joined in as the man-turned-fox pranced and jumped around the stage. 

After a few more seconds of that, he twisted into the ball of mass once more before returning to his human state and reclaiming the microphone. He sketched a short bow and said, “Thank you! My goodness, but that cold really _does_ hit you when you don’t have fur, doesn’t it?” He leaned forward conspiratorially and faux whispered into the mic, “I’ll have to talk to the zoo about upgrading from shorts to pants, eh?”

That earned a few chuckles from the crowd, and while the joke made Elle giggle, it just made me roll my eyes good-naturedly. The clips online had hinted at Menagerie’s show being a blend of comedy and teaching about nature, but it was something else to experience the man’s goofiness in-person.

Up in the front row, an older teen with long, wavy brown hair abruptly stood and excitedly asked, “Excuse me, Mr. Menagerie! Would you please tell me if you can become a _dragon_?”

Menagerie looked to her in surprise, clearly having not expected anyone to interrupt the show, but after a moment he chuckled and amicably replied, “I can certainly change into a komodo dragon, but if you are referring to the dragons of fairy tales, then alas, I cannot.”

A little boy sitting a bit further down on the row in front of us called out, “What about unicorns?”

“Sorry everyone, if we could hold any further questions until the end of the show, that would be appreciated,” Menagerie responded with a somewhat plastered-on smile.

Elle and I were several rows back from the front, but I could still hear the first girl interject, “Nonsense! You’ll happily answer a few more of _my_ questions.”

He paused for a second then shrugged. “Well, I suppose a few more questions from you wouldn’t hurt.”

 _Huh. Weird for him to walk it back that quickly_ , I thought.

“Unicorn! Unicorn!” the boy called out again.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll only be taking a few more questions from this young lady here,” Menagerie replied a bit of a frown now on his face.

A lot of the crowd began to murmur at that answer, and I turned to Elle and commented, “This is really weird.”

“Too weird,” she agreed.

The girl with the wavy hair, who had been tapping her chin while seemingly thinking through what to ask, finally queried, “Do you have to match the normal size of an animal, or can you be oversized?”

“I have to match size.”

“‘Match size’?” she pressed, latching onto that phrasing. “Clarify. Do you mean you mimic specific animals?”

Menagerie visibly hesitated for a moment before admitting, “I also control nearby animals. I can transform into an exact copy of any animal I’ve controlled in the past day or so.”

 _I didn’t see that anywhere online_ , I thought with a frown. _Why would he just admit to something like that to some random person?_ “Something is definitely wrong,” I said to Elle as I reached over to grip her hand. “I think we should leave.” 

Apparently other people agreed. Everyone in the amphitheater was shuffling around in confusion at this point, and many were rising or already on their way to the exits. Elle looked to me and nodded, her expression confused and a tad afraid, and we rose to join those leaving. Before we got far though, the girl up front clamored awkwardly onto the stage despite Menagerie’s protests and said into the mic, “Return to to your seats, everyone.”

I blinked in consternation and tensed in panic as Elle and I immediately turned around and walked the few steps back to our seats. _That does sound like a good idea_ , I found myself thinking. _We could get accidentally trampled if people freak out and try to run._ And they probably would freak out soon if they weren’t already. That girl was obviously a Master. _Definitely better to stay in our seats until it’s safe._

Elle, as well as several other people in the audience, started to pull out their phones as the crowd began to rapidly become panicked. Several people were crying or shouting for help. “Everyone calm down and be quiet,” the girl commanded. “Also, put away your phones, turn them off, and leave them off. Oh, right, but first delete any pictures or recordings, and, um… Yeah, I think that’s all.”

A lot of the crowd calmed down, and though Elle and I—along with a few others scattered here and there—were still visibly upset and panicked, Elle did end the call to Melanie she had just started and turned off her phone before slipping it back into her jeans pocket. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. What is going on?_ I worried as I pulled out my own phone to turn it off. _We’re being mastered, but only somewhat? What can we do?_

“Not enough,” Elle whispered fervently to me. I turned to meet her frightened gaze, and she added, “Need more time.”

 _Right, today’s a good day_ , I realized. _We haven’t been here long enough for her power to reach the stage yet. It’s up to me then. Steel bars over the stage, there’s a steel frame under the wooden stage… No, wait: The microphone’s wire contains metal! I could use it to choke her until she’s unconscious._ It would be a gamble. The fact the Master had gone for the microphone at all and was actually saying orders meant it was possible she needed to vocalize for her power to work, but she could be sandbagging like how I pretended to be a Tinker.

The Master had noticed not everyone was calming down and muttered seemingly to herself, “Dammit, not enough yet. Right, sorry! Everyone please say your name!”

“Elizabeth Delaney,” Elle said clearly, her eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears.

“J-J-J—” I started to stutter, interrupting my planning. _No! It doesn’t matter what your deadname is, you’re_ June fucking Fujiwara, _goddammit!_ “J-Juniper Fujiwara.”

“Everyone please raise your right hand. Now raise your left hand. Clap your hands. Um, sure, let’s throw in snapping too, why not.” By the end, everyone in the amphitheater was snapping their fingers, Menagerie included, and the Master smiled brightly. “Excellent! Now everyone _calm down_ and be quiet.”

 _I’m probably making Elle freak out_ , I thought. _I should really calm down_. I felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut I sagged so abruptly into my seat. Beside me Elle wiped at her eyes, which no longer held any fear. I reached over and wrapped a comforting arm around her. “Don’t worry,” I murmured, smiling a bit to console her. “I’m going to choke her now, okay?”

Seemingly pleased with the state of the crowd, the Master had turned her attention back to Menagerie and was saying something away from the mic. Desperately hoping the currently calm crowd wouldn’t gasp or give up the game in some other way, I had the microphone’s wire begin to coil up on the stage just behind the Master. Once I had eaten up the slack, the wire lashed out and swiftly wrapped around the Master’s neck, and she released a brief, surprised shout and frantically began clawing at the wire. 

For a split second, I honestly thought it was going to work. It might have too, if I hadn’t been trying to take her down non-lethally due to Melanie’s rules against killing. “Bard!” the Master gurgled. “Help!”

The person who had been seated next to the Master while she was in the crowd instantly burst into some kind of body made of blue light and surged forward, crossing the distance to the Master in just about a second then seeped into her body. 

The Master’s eyes flared with light the same color blue, and in a burst of speed, she tore away the wire with ease before I could push into elsewhere. She then shouted loud and clear, “Nobody attack anyone!” before coughing and rubbing her throat.

 _If I keep attacking, then I might reveal where I am and get stopped_ , I rationalized as I let the torn pieces of wire fall limply to the stage. I tilted my head as I sedately considered how to approach the issue. _Um… Even if it’s on pause, we’re still in the middle of the performance, so I should be quiet, stay seated, and keep my phone off. I especially don’t want to worry Elle, so I should stay calm and not attack anyone. But Melanie’s training about being mastered said if we think we’re being mastered and can’t get away, then we should take down the Master as soon as possible. How do I do that?_

“Holy cow, that was a close one huh, Bard?” the Master remarked with an awkward laugh, her eyes still glowing with blue light. The noise in the amphitheater was minimal because only a scattered few people in the crowd were murmuring lowly amongst one another, so even without the mic it wasn’t difficult to hear the Master. “Here I thought I’d managed to catch a new party member without someone getting all pissy, then lo and behold, there’s a _parahuman_ in the crowd!”

_It’s not attacking if I just let something fall on her, right? That’s just letting gravity do its thing._

The steel structure over the stage was too heavy as one piece for me to manipulate, so I needed to separate a chunk to drop it. Unfortunately my lack of fine control came back to bite me in the ass when the structure groaned a bit as I pulled it apart. If everyone hadn’t been absolutely tranquil, it never would have been noticed, but if wishes were fishes… She made a tremendous jump forward that just shouldn’t have been possible for a normal human and, twisting in a 180 turn mid-air, landed on the stairs running up through the middle of the seats with her eyes on the stage as the braced steel beams feel down and _through_ where she had been standing moments prior. “Oh for— Nobody active— No wait, nobody _harm anybody at all_. Sheesh.”

 _Oh god, I could have hurt Menagerie! He was_ right there _, and I dropped a steel beam! Melanie would have had my head. I can’t do that again…_

The Master slowly rotated in place, surveying everyone with interest. “Oh, I’ve _definitely_ got to have you, you wily bastard. Let’s see, how about…” She cleared her throat, which devolved into a brief coughing fit before continuing. “Woof, where was I? Oh right! Anybody who isn’t a parahuman bend over, wrap your arms around your knees, and stay that way. Anybody who _is_ a parahuman, stay seated upright.”

 _Well, there’s no sense in hiding, since she would have figured it out anyway_ , I thought mildly as everyone in the crowd except Elle and I bent over.

The Master’s gaze swept quickly over everyone and alighted on us a moment later. She gasped with delight and squealed, “ _Two_?! Awesome!” She hurried over to us and called out when she arrived. “All the normal humans near here move up to the stage to give us some room. Go ahead and hop out, Bard, and get up here, Druid!”

The light in the Master’s eyes faded away, revealing bright, honey colored eyes that practically shone with enthusiasm. The blue light leaked out of her into the form of a humanoid shaped figure of hazy blue light before changing into a scraggy man with messy, dirty blonde hair, but my eyes almost immediately moved back to the Master as she leaned in with an intense gaze and demanded, “You two really are parahumans, right? Tell me!”

 _She already knows anyway._ “We are,” I confirmed somewhat warily. Elle twisted in her seat to look away and gripped my arm with both of hers, though judging by her grip, she wasn’t upset. Just seeking comfort? I didn’t know. I felt like I _should_ be panicking, but it didn’t really make sense to either, especially since I didn’t want to worry Elle.

“If you think looking away will stop my power from working, then you’re going to be _so disappointed_ ,” the Master smugly informed us in a sing-song tone. Menagerie walked up at that point, and I glanced around, wondering where this ‘Druid’ person was. “Okay, I _really_ want to do a power show-and-tell right now, but if we stay here much longer, then it might cause trouble. Probs best to move along.” She clapped her hands together and started to bounce with obvious excitement. “Still, _three_ parahumans for the price of one? What a steal! If your powers fit right, then I might finally have a full set!”

“It’s probably best if we move along, Boss,” the scraggly guy, presumably Bard, pointed out.

“I did just say that, didn’t I? Sorry, sorry, just _so much excite_! Okay, okay, okay—c’mon, you two come with the three of us!”

 _The show_ is _over, and the zoo hasn’t closed yet. Elle would probably like to see more of the animals before we leave for the day._ I rose to my feet, and Elle stood with me.

The Master pointed towards the exit like she was indicating some far away monument just on the horizon and dramatically declared, “Well then, my party! We’re off!”

And so we left. The Master and Bard moved towards the exit with Menagerie on their heels, and I followed more slowly, since Elle was still gripping my arm with both of hers. The Master swiveled around when she reached the exit, already taking in a deep breath as if to call out a command. She paused when she saw how far back we were and rolled her eyes. “C’mon, you two. Hurry it up.”

 _If we move quickly, we might even have time to get a souvenir after we see all the exhibits_. I picked up my walking pace, and Elle released my arm in favor of holding my hand, making our progress much quicker as we finished crossing the distance to the Master.

The Master cleared her throat again and said to the room at large, “Okay, everyone here who isn’t a parahuman! If anybody asks what happened here, I want you to tell them… Hmm… Tell them the stage roof fell down and nearly killed Menagerie, and he decided he was done working for a place with such a shoddy setup and quit on the spot to go get a new job at a different zoo. Feel free to embellish a little, but _don’t_ mention that these two girls are parahumans or that they or Menagerie left with me. Oh, and don’t mention that Bard or I were here either. In five minutes, you all should all get out of your seats and leave here. Kaybaaai!”

Her orders to the crowd done, she fixed her gaze on Menagerie, Elle, and me and said, “Don’t make a scene, leave your phones in the trash can on the way out, and again, none of you three are allowed to hurt anybody directly or indirectly unless I tell you to, okay? Each of you should be friends with everyone in the group.”

Menagerie, Elle, and I all tossed our phones in a nearby trash can, and the zoo’s rogue gave us a goofy smile like the ones he had used earlier on stage. “Right only makes sense to get along,” he jovially said. “Hello, you two! My name’s Druid. And you are?”

 _Wait, what?_ “But… Your name is Menagerie.”

“W-Well, that was my cape name, yes, but…” 

He looked to the Master for assistance, and she chimed in, “You’ll only call him Druid from now on. Don’t call him Menagerie, got it?”

I shrugged. “Okay.” _I guess if everyone else is going to be doing that, I wouldn’t want anyone to be confused_.

“Now then,” she continued to say as she turned to leave. She had already made it clear we were leaving and needed to be quick, so Elle and I made sure to keep up with the other three members of our group. “We’ll get to figuring out whether I’m keeping you later, but for now, tell us what your names are. First name only is fine.”

“Elizabeth,” Elle supplied. “Everyone calls me Elle.”

“I’m J-J-Juniper. I go by June.” The Master and Bard gave me strange looks when I stuttered over my name but didn’t press any further. I glanced around curiously and determined we were likely heading towards the employee lot down at the south end of the Zoo.

“Right, let’s finish up introductions while we make our way back to the van,” the Master said. “I’m sure by now you’ve figured out this is Bard, and my name’s Octavia. I’m really hopeful that your powers fit in with one of the free themes!”

“Themes?” Elle quietly asked, sounding unsure.

“Yes! Tell me, have you heard of _Octahedron_?”

Menagerie, Elle, and I all shared confused glances, and Bard facepalmed. “Boss, I keep telling you nobody calls us that.”

“I know, I know, but you can’t fault a girl for wanting her team to be called the right name. Anyway, all the people online call us _The Eight_.”

My eyes widened as I made the connection. “The D&D capes? I thought you were in Chicago?”

“So you _have_ heard of us!” Octavia said with obvious glee as we entered a somewhat more secluded area. “I told you were getting better known, Bard! I told you!”

I should have kept my mouth shut, but the words tumbled out before I could help it. “Uber and Leet mentioned you rejected doing a collaboration with them. I didn’t know who you were, so I asked Amy, and she pointed me in the right direction on PHO. Everyone says you’re losers who’ve lost touch with reality.”

Octavia was in my face a moment later, her eyes dark with anger. “Shut up. Shut up right now, or I swear to god, I’ll command you to stop breathing. Do you want that? _Huh_?!”

The ground on either side of Octavia swelled up and formed into two suits of armor with halberds that forcibly pushed her away from me with their free hands. “Leave June alone,” Elle said, her voice soft but dangerous. “We’re friends, Octavia, and you don’t threaten friends.”

It looked like Octavia wasn’t even paying attention to me anymore as she examined one of the suits of armor from up close. “ _Wow_ ,” she breathed out in wonder. “You made these? Just like that? Were you the one who tried to kill me back in the amphitheater? Tell me!”

“June did,” Elle answered, her tone and expression still severe.

“Boss, we’ve got company,” Bard pointed out as a zoo staff member approached at a jog from the direction we had just come.

“Damn, sorry,” Octavia said. “Elle, get rid of these suits. Hi there, Mister Zoo Staff Guy! Just pass us by and don’t tell anybody that you saw us!”

“Menagerie!” the staff member called out as he got closer, ignoring Octavia. He stopped and watched us warily when the suits collapsed back into the ground. “Are you okay? We just saw the stage, and the people leaving the show said you were quitting. What’s—”

“Oh for the love of,” Octavia huffily interjected. “Staff guy, look to your left. Look to your right. Spin around. Again. Again. Now go away and don’t tell anybody you saw us.”

I watched with raised eyebrows as the man followed each task to the letter and ran off. “How _does_ your power work, Octavia? It seems kind of… faulty.”

Octavia’s eyes flashed dangerously, but Elle stepped forward, and the other girl backed down begrudgingly. “That’s for me to know. None of you will wonder about how my power works again, and you won’t realize I’m using it on you, got it?”

_It could be dangerous to think too hard about how a Master’s power works. Might make it harder to break out of it later. Besides, we’re friends, so it’s not like she would use it on us, right?_

“Now, before I get side tracked _again_ , let’s get a move on. I need to know if I’m keeping you, and Bard’s right that we should do it somewhere safe.”

“I dunno what you mean by ‘keep,’” I asked as we continued moving south, “but you make it sound important. Why do you want to know that?”

She tossed me a victorious smile over her shoulder, her white teeth almost predatory. “Because if I am, then I’ve finally finished my _Octahedron_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. That's a thing that just happened. Oh, and don't worry about me doing something absolutely evil like making next week's chapter be an interlude... That would be evil.


	21. Bell 3.z

The elevator dinged to indicate it had reached the desired floor, and Lee was moving forward the instant its doors parted enough for him to pass. He checked the door numbers as he made his way down the hall to verify he was moving in the correct direction, and before long, he located the door he was looking for. He had been tracking his surroundings for possible observers from the moment he had stepped off the elevator. There were no cameras, and the size of the peepholes indicated they were the standard variety that could only view what was straight ahead of them. The apartments were staggered such that no apartment’s door faced another, which meant nobody noticed when Lee leaned forward and glanced into the peep hole. By their design, the fisheye lens of a peephole didn’t allow someone on the outside to properly see the inside of an apartment. However, he had long since learned his power did not require seeing something _properly_.

The Lee inside the apartment carefully examined his dark surroundings while his predecessor turned and casually leaned against the door. With fluid but quiet movements born of repetition, he retrieved the bag slung across his back, withdrew the demon mask within, and secured it over his face. He just barely heard the noise of his predecessor dying in a burst of ash outside the door, but he paid that no mind. Once his visage was safe from wandering eyes, he withdrew a knife and slung the bag once more over himself. The lights were all off but for one lamp by the window, and he gave his eyes time to adapt to the almost non-existent light while listening intently for any noise. Once his eyes had adjusted, he glanced at the lone light in the room before turning the corner into the kitchenette. His eyes swiftly surveyed the kitchen— _No one present. No traps_ —and searched the fridge— _Almost empty, no perishables_ —before moving to cover the hallway as his successor by the lamp cleared the last of the possible corners a shooter might be lying in wait.

He checked around the corner and noted there were three doorways, all closed and the one on the right louvered, while his successor examined the outlet the lamp was plugged into and found an old-fashioned outlet timer.

 _Louvered door is likely a closet_ , thought Lee as he checked around the corner. _Left room is that side of the building and likely has a window, so left room is the bedroom. Final room is likely the bathroom._ It was his last thought as he died, falling to ash.

 _6 P.M. until 11 P.M._ , Lee thought as he unplugged the lamp while his predecessor died. He then moved to the corner of the hallway entrance opposite the pile of ash and checked around the corner. _Louvered door is likely a closet_ , he thought. _Left room is this side of the building and likely has a window, so left room is the bedroom. Final room is likely the bathroom._

He would have liked to have used the bedroom window instead of entering through the hallway door, but the building had a stark concrete exterior. Common for an apartment building in this area of town and, more importantly, impossible for him to scale without rappelling gear. He looked to his right, and his successor appeared atop the ashes of their predecessor. His successor looked to the bedroom door, and when _his_ successor appeared next to it, the two Lees at the end of the hall switched their knives into a throwing position, gripping them by the blade upside down. They watched carefully for any doors opening, ready to throw in an instant, while their successor carefully, quietly twisted the knob with his off hand.

Lee released the handle and pushed the door open in one movement while securely out of sight around the corner, taking care to not give the door enough momentum to actually strike the wall. The first of his predecessors covering him down the hall died in a burst of ash, but no other response came. Before the last of his predecessors vanished, he leaned around the door frame and cleared the opposite corner, where his successor promptly appeared and cleared the furthest corner before spawning a new Lee there. Those two Lees then cleared the last of the room’s corners, and as his predecessor down the hall died, he turned to keep an eye on the closet and the bathroom. He heard another Lee appear inside the bedroom, but he spared it no mind. He had a job to do while he waited for his end to come. 

Lee examined the bedside stand while his predecessors guarded the hall and checked under the bed and inside the bedroom closet to verify no attackers lied in wait. _Unlit lamp and outlet timer—11 P.M. until 11:45 P.M. No phone charging cord or adapter—planned departure._

“Abundance of empty hangers,” his predecessor by the closet quietly intoned. “No sign of suitcase.”

_May not own suitcase, but abundance of empty hangers supports planned departure._

He glanced at the door to the hallway before his predecessor in the hallway could vanish, and his successor appeared there before spawning three more of himself. He returned his attention to the beside table as his predecessor kneeling by the bed died and turned to ash, and he eyed the lone pieces of trash in the wire can by the table: Two crumpled up balls of paper. He retrieved them and verified the first, an envelope containing nothing, before dropping that back in as his other predecessor in the room died. The second ball of paper was a letter, which he smoothed out. 

His eyebrows rose, and he said as loudly as he dared to his successor at the door, “Letter from PRT.” He then started to skim—

Lee dutifully reported the information to the latest Lee, who had stayed nearby to check the hallway closet while the other two had moved to check the bathroom together. His successor turned away from the hallway closet, and Lee started to step asi—

Lee’s predecessors at the bathroom called out it was clear, and he moved back into the bedroom, uncaring as he strode upon the remnants of his predecessors and no longer quite as concerned regarding stealth. He and his other selves had confirmed the apartment was empty. He picked up the letter that had fallen to the floor and shook off the ashes that had come to rest atop it.

> Ms. Reuter,
> 
> We have attempted to reach you by phone regarding the cessation of your reports on your ward, Jake Fujiwara, but have been unable to reach you. Please be advised we will be terminating further payments to your account until such time as you meet in person with your handler at your local PRT branch, the ENE office, to discuss this violation of your agreement.

Lee folded the letter as best as possible and tucked it into his bag before turning and opening the window enough to stick his head out and look at the roof of the next building over. His successor promptly spawned his replacement on the next roof and so on, a chain of himself moving inexorably towards his destination.

_Lung must know._

* * *

Ariel’s keen eyes critically examined the scene before her, considering all the possibilities and what consequences would follow from pursuing them. Things looked like they might get… messy if she went that route, but there was a degree of certainty that came from choosing it. On the other hand, _that_ option over there guaranteed results, but where was the fun in repetition? Perhaps she could split the difference?

 _Yes. Yes, that will do._ “I’ll take a lion size blueberry lemonade slush.”

“That’ll be $8.47, ma’am.”

She quirked her eyebrow as she dutifully handed over her credit card. “That’s highway robbery,” she remarked, “but then, I’ve no doubt your fine dining establishment purveys only the highest quality foods made from organic, homegrown ingredients.”

The teenager manning the stand looked visibly constipated as he did his best to not snicker. He coughed to buy himself time to regain his composure before replying, “Yes ma’am. The Eagle’s Roost is… Yes.” He held out her card and receipt before replying with an attempt at a straight face, “If you’ll just step to the side, our valet service will bring you your… your cocktail shortly.”

Ariel grinned widely at the attempted rejoinder. “Ooo, so fancy! I shall! I shall, good sir!” she cheerfully replied before stepping aside to let the next person in line order. She returned her keen eyes—and keen they were, having spotted that option amongst the rabble on the food stand’s board—to looking towards the amphitheater where June and Elle were still enjoying the show. 

The sight of the two hugging shortly before the line had filed inside had nearly led to Ariel blowing her cover when a squee demanded—demanded!—to be released, but she had forcibly kept a lid on her excitement at what seemed to be the two teens finally admitting their feelings for each other. Instead, she had done the sensible thing and moved to acquire a celebratory treat while she waited out the end of the forty-five minute show.

Ariel frowned in confusion when she noticed a small cluster of people moving away from the vicinity of the amphitheater. It was not the presence of people that drew her attention, as there were still clumps of people moving about here and there despite being a Monday, but rather that it appeared one of the people was wearing a safari outfit. It was tough to say for sure, since they were a decent distance away, and she could only just barely make him out. His companions were practically moving colored blobs. 

_A cosplayer, perhaps? Can’t be Menagerie. The show only just started._

“Here’s your drink, ma’am,” the boy who took her order said as he plopped her frozen blue slush on the counter. “Enjoy.”

“I shall endeavor to do so, good sir!” Ariel replied with a smile as she retrieved her treat. Her reward in hand, she glanced back to the amphitheater and saw nobody had begun to queue for the next show yet. _I think I’ll see if I can’t watch some of the show from the exit. Or maybe I’ll flirt with the person watching the exit until they’re red in the face. Entertaining either way._ She took a few probing slurps of her drink and made her way over at a brisk pace, and when she arrived, her frown from earlier made a reappearance. The zoo employees who had been manning the exits earlier were no longer present. _Well, I guess watching the show it is then._

She stepped into the amphitheater, and a chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with her cold drink. The stage was a mess, a chunk of its roofing having fallen down, but the crowd was sitting calmly, with only a few chatting quietly here and there. She moved to a middle-aged man nearby and hastily asked, “Sir, what happened here?”

“The stage roof snapped and fell. Hell of a bang when it hit the stage,” he calmly explained, his voice gruff. “Menagerie almost got hit and decided he’s done working somewhere that can’t take safety seriously.”

“Why is everyone sitting so calmly?!”

“I was asked to,” he answered, and judging by his tone, he thought that ought to be answer enough.

Ariel’s eyes swept the crowd and immediately fell on an area completely devoid of people. She started to make her way there, but without warning, everyone in the crowd got up and began to leave. Some still seemed swept up in the unnatural calm, but several began to sprint and shout as they scrambled to leave. _Weaker flow there, where people are calmer._ Ariel braced herself and began to make her way towards where that void had been while sticking to areas where the patrons were leaving calmly to minimize the effort needed. At first glance nothing indicated why that particular location had been empty, but then she saw it. Carved into the cement floor was a message in block letters.

> Whoever reads this: Call 508-746-2567, and you will be paid $500 to read this message to Faultline. Unknown Master and a Breaker called Bard have abducted Labyrinth, Meteor, and Menagerie. Master power seems to work by voice but seems to require multiple commands. Bard’s power seems to be entering someone else and boosting their strength and speed. Master is woman with long, wavy brown hair. Breaker is a man with shorter, dirty blond hair. Please send help.

_Oh god._

Ariel pulled out her phone, took a picture of the message, and immediately sprinted out of the now almost completely vacant amphitheater. _That was no cosplayer—that was_ the _Menagerie! The girls will be there._ She dodged around the last few stragglers and two zoo employees who had returned to their stations from wherever they had been, and she pulled up the dialer app on her phone as she raced down the path she had seen the group take. 

She tapped the listing ‘17,’ and the phone rang out for two rings before picking up. “Sixteen? I wasn’t expect—”

“The two girls in Mel’s crew have been abducted by a Master,” Ariel interrupted. “One of them, Elle, managed to leave a warning message. I took a picture. Can you send it to One?”

“Sending it now,” the voice on the other end gravely replied. “I’ll alert Zero as well. They’ll want to know. Where are you now? Do you know where they are?”

“If you think that’s wise,” Ariel allowed as she reached a point where she had to turn left or right. She hesitated. _Which way? I know the main lot is to the north…_ Just as she was about to turn left and move north, she noticed a zoo employee jogging towards her from the south, and she yelled to him, “Why are you running?”

The man abruptly stopped and said in a somewhat dazed voice, “I was looking for Menagerie, but I think I got turned around?”

Ariel was already running past him before he had even finished, saying into her phone, “I think they’re moving south, so I’m pursuing on foot. Is there another exit down there? I never grabbed a map.”

“Way ahead of you on pulling up a map, but—and maybe this is a bad time to bring this up—the Flycatcher’s internet is still pretty shit, Sixteen.”

“Tell me something I don’t know!” Ariel breathlessly threw back. “You know, like _whether there’s another exit to the south_?!”

“Got it. Yes, there’s another lot. I… think it’s an employee lot? I can confirm that in a minute.”

She didn’t miss the two roughly circular patches in the middle of the pathway where the pavement had been visibly disturbed. _Seem to be on the right track_. “Not super worried about what kind of lot it is. Are One and Zero aware?”

“Yeah, they both know. Sixteen—based on this message, you’re about to confront a dangerous Master, a guy who thought _Bard_ was a good cape name, some Animorph motherfucker, two kidnapped people we’re sup—”

“Get to the point, Seventeen,” Ariel interjected, her breath somewhat heavy as she fished her wraparound jogging headphones out of her purse. _Thank god I had these on hand._

“I just— Be careful, okay?”

“I see them!” she gasped as she turned on the headphones and shoved her phone in her pocket, the sound of Seventeen’s voice moving into the headset. “Can you—?”

“Turning it off now,” came the immediate reply of a new voice. “Good luck, Sixteen.”

 _Oh wow._ “Thanks, One.”

Ariel yelled, and though she could not hear it herself, the handful of scattered groups of people and one or two loners all looked her way. Most important among them, the group of five she was pursuing also turned to face her. Menagerie and Bard—going by Elle’s description—looked confused, the Master looked irritated, and June and Elle both looked startled, clearly recognizing her even at a distance.

_Focus._

Distance running was more her forte, so Ariel was definitely feeling winded from having sprinted the entire way over, but she did her best to shove that down and put on a fresh burst of speed. The Master was shouting something, but to Ariel, she might as well have been saying nothing. Once she had entered an acceptable range, Ariel dove into a forward roll over her left shoulder while twisting her upper body a quarter turn to the right to grab at the small of her back. She came out of the roll into a kneeling sniper cradle with her left foot forward, and though the abrupt stop to her momentum was jarring, she smoothly brought her pistol into position to fire. Bard entered his breaker form, but Ariel only had eyes for the Master, who she aimed at before squeezing out three bullets. Her right knee, planted on the ground under her, ate up the backwards recoil from the gun firing thrice in succession, and she took grim satisfaction in the look of shock on the Master’s face as one bullet carved a path straight through her heart. One of the remaining two bullets only grazed over her shoulder due to the impact making the Master reel, but the other struck closer to the center of the chest, adding to the woman’s injuries.

Ariel ignored Menagerie as his body twisted into a ball of mass and collapsed to the ground before seemingly vanishing. Instead, she kept her eyes and gun trained on Bard as his Breaker form seeped into the injured Master, and she readied herself in anticipation of the boosted Master trying to rush her.

The Master’s eyes flared with blue light, but more importantly, her two bullet wounds flared with the same light.

_Fuck._

The Master was shouting something as Ariel squeezed out the remainder of her clip—twelve more bullets. Four found their way into the Master’s chest, one found its way into her neck, and one narrowly missed her forehead as she fell to her side with five new holes in her glowing. The other six melted in midair before reaching their target, and Ariel’s gun shortly met the same fate as June’s stance shifted.

“Bard’s power heals as well!” Ariel shouted as she shoved herself forward into another sprint, hoping desperately she hadn’t damaged her phone and ended the call with One and Seventeen. _June’s power is ferrokinesis_ , she reminded herself as she tossed her purse aside, knowing it had metal buckles among other things. She tried to shed her jacket while dodging around the three metal balls June had formed out of her bullets and sent flying at her, but she wasn’t superhuman and completely failed to avoid the balls formed from her gun coming at her from behind. She tried to turn her tumble into another roll forward, but the ground had the consistency of sand instead of concrete when she hit it. Most of her speed died in an instant, and the rest was killed off when the ground rose up around her wrists and ankles before solidifying once more.

 _This is really disappointing,_ Ariel thought as she twisted her head so she was laying her face down sideways instead of nose first into the pavement. _I still had a few good years left before I was retired._

A rat scurried past her face before shifting and becoming Menagerie, and Ariel said for the benefit of the recording One was undoubtedly making, “Menagerie can transform into a form as small as a rat.”

The man in safari garb reached down and plucked her headphones from her neck before hurling them far away. _Gonna guess Bluetooth doesn’t work at that range._ He then began patting her down for a phone, and bound as she was, Ariel was powerless to stop him, but that didn’t stop her from wiggling as much as possible away from his prying hands. After nearly half a minute of fumbling around, he finally found the phone in her pocket, which he tossed to the ground before twisting into a rhino and stomping on it.

Someone grabbed Ariel’s hair, and she yelped as her head was forcibly pulled up by her hair. The Master was glaring at her with an expression of pure, unadulterated loathing as her mouth moved a mile a minute and the points of light dotting her chest began to dim. _I rather doubt the phone survived an adult rhino stepping on it, but I might as well give her a hard time anyway. Try and enjoy my last minutes—seconds—of life._ “Sorry, what’s that, dearie?” Ariel drawled in the best old woman’s voice she could muster. “You’ll have to speak up. My ears just aren’t what they used to be!”

Ariel’s nose exploded with pain as the Master slammed her head into the ground, then all at once the pain vanished. _One last mercy, eh, One? Thanks for that._

Her face was lifted up, and the Master begin to shout at her again while her three hostages watched from over her shoulder. Unsure what the Master was saying and really not caring when it came down to it, Ariel taunted, “Was that all you got? ‘Cause I can do this _all day_.”

That was apparently the wrong thing—or perhaps the very best thing—to say, as the Master began to slam Ariel’s head into the ground several more times, and despite the lack of pain, Ariel couldn’t quite ignore the feeling of her body beginning to break down on her. Her head was pulled back up once more, and she saw the horror dawn on the Master’s and hostages’ faces when they saw her.

Or more likely, what was under her skin.

Ariel smiled at Melanie’s girls as best as she could and with her last words said, “We will save you.”

[System shutdown. Thank you for your service, Clutch016]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week is a short chapter—the shortest yet, in fact—because I realized the third scene I originally intended to have in 3.z really ruined how well these two scenes contrasted. I'm not 100% sure yet how I'll be handling that, but in all likelihood next week will also be an interlude. 


	22. Bell 3.5

“We will save you.”

 _That can’t be Ariel_ , I thought as I stared with wide eyes at the… thing on the ground, as it said those words.

There was blood, but there wasn’t nearly enough. It certainly looked real—I would know, having seen it more than once in Brooklyn—but given the amount of damage Octavia had inflicted on Ar— _on whatever this was_ , there was surprisingly little leaking onto the paved ground. Shards of what should have been its skull but seemed more akin to an inner shell were strewn about. The open view into its inner workings laid bare the absolutely alien nature of it all.

_“We will save you.”_

The body began to _melt_ . Elle buried her face against me, and I held her tightly as I continued to watch, completely aghast and unable to tear my own eyes away. The body’s flesh leaked away at an alarming pace and evaporated shortly after, and its strange, foreign insides set me on edge. Caught as I was with my gaze helplessly fixated upon it, I could not help but try to define it, to put words to what I was beholding in an effort to understand it. A machine? I could feel no metal within, and I didn’t know of any machines that had _no_ metal at all. A cyborg or android or whatever the right term was? Only the exterior actually looked human. Everything inside, though often close in appearance to what I might have expected to see inside of somebody, had some aspect of it that was _off_ and dispelled the illusion of humanity. The bones shortened and lengthened like pistons, the muscle fibers were a slate blue instead of red and wrapped around the bones in a different way I could not place, and there were far fewer organs, all with textured surfaces that looked almost woven together.

Elle trembled against me, and the wetness of her tears was beginning to soak through my blouse. “It’s not her,” I whispered, comforting her as much as I was myself. “It’s not her.”

I tried to convince myself the words were true. Knowing what had laid within, it was difficult to ascribe humanity to it, but all the same it had looked, sounded, _acted_ like Ariel just a few minutes ago.

_“We will save you.”_

_From what?_

Bard seeped out of Octavia and said with urgency, “We should leave.”

Almost everyone in the area had long since fled by now, but I could feel where someone was hiding in the bushes nearby, holding up in our direction what was almost certainly a phone. I crushed it with a negligent flick of my powers before looking to my friend and nodding. “Yeah, definitely,” I agreed. “Someone was recording us, but I trashed their phone. We should… move…”

 _Wait, friend?_ It was true. Bard _was_ my friend. It was the sort of obvious fact on par with ‘the sky is blue,’ but… _why_ had we become friends? I remembered meeting at Druid’s show earlier, but what exactly had led to us becoming so friendly?

“Good, that’s good,” Octavia said, seemingly not noticing the way I had trailed off. Her tone was a mixture of relief and uncertainty. At a guess, she was relieved to not be dead, since several bullets had hit her before I could stop Ar— _The cyborg? Going with cyborg_ —before I could stop the cyborg. As for the uncertainty, I imagined she was right there with me, unsure what to think about what had just happened. “Yeah, c’mon everyone. Bard, call Monk and tell him to get the car started and meet us at the entrance to the lot.”

By that point the cyborg had all but disappeared into a puddle of chemicals that had already begun to stain the empty pile of clothes and shoes on the ground. Jean overalls were among them, and I recognized them from the day Elle, the rest of the crew, and I had met Ariel.

_“We will save you.”_

I felt a chill crawl down my spine, and I did my best to not shiver as Elle carefully tugged away and we moved to follow our friends to the parking lot. “Who’s Monk?” I asked, trying to keep Octavia busy while I sorted out what was wrong. It felt important that she not know I was bothered, but I couldn’t place my finger on why. 

“He’s part of my Octahedron!” Octavia gushed as we all hustled along. “I have Bard, obviously, and I just got Druid. Monk’s waiting in the car, and I also have Artificer, Sorcerer, and Paladin. You’ll meet them all soon, then you can show off your powers, and I’ll decide whether I’m going to keep you two.”

We didn’t run into any more employees on our way out, but that made sense in a way. I doubted handling capes or people with guns was covered in their orientation. We eventually reached the car, which I was surprised to find was a new, expensive sedan. That meant there were six of us, which was one too many for the vehicle, but Bard had clearly already thought of this and jumped back into Octavia, who moved to the shotgun seat and said, “Get in the back, you three.”

I didn’t see any problem with going for a ride with friends, especially since we needed to get out of here before any heroes arrived. Druid had already climbed in behind the driver seat, so I pulled my backpack off and slid into the middle from the opposite side while keeping my bag in my lap. I started to buckle my seatbelt but paused when I realized Elle hadn’t climbed in. She was standing near the open door with a glazed look in her eyes, and I immediately realized the problem.

 _It’s a damn shame she got her into her bad space so quickly, especially since we were enjoying a nice day out with friends._ “Elle, get in the car and close the door.”

Octavia twisted around and gave us a funny look but didn’t say anything. Monk, the driver, had their brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and their frame was so scrawny I couldn’t quite decipher whether they were presenting as a man or a woman. Even their voice was centered in a nebulous range, as I noticed when they commented with a strong southern twang, “And here I was thinkin’ y’all were just gettin’ the one. What’re y’all’s names?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Octavia cut in, saying, “Asian one’s July, and blondie’s… eh, I can’t remember.”

I bristled at that. “My name’s _June_ !” I bit out, “and she’s _Elle_.”

Octavia turned and fixed me with a dark glare then demanded, “Raise your right hand,” 

Monk breathed out a, “Hoo-boy!” and pulled out of the space as I raised my right hand.

“Everyone else stay calm, especially _you_ ,” she looked to Elle briefly before returning her gaze to me. “Look at your hand. Now slap yourself. _Hard_. 

_Goddammit, June, that was really rude of you just now!_ I slapped myself across my right cheek with enough force to shock a gasp out of myself. _You deserved that!_

“And you know what? Until I tell you otherwise, your name is _July_ now, got it?”

“That’s not my name,” I muttered. My cheek burned, but my defiance burned hotter. “You’re my friend, Octavia! Choosing my name was really important to me, and you should respect that!”

The brunette had been in the midst of angrily opening her mouth to say something but stopped short and stared for several seconds in surprise. “Huh? What do you mean you chose your name?”

I blinked before remembering that despite becoming fast friends, I hadn’t told Octavia about my past yet. “Right, hadn’t gotten around to telling you. I’m trans.” She was still visibly nonplussed, so I added, “You know, transgender?”

“What, you wanna be a guy or something?” she asked, still palpably confused.

“No way,” I shivered. “I’m a girl.”

Monk glanced at me through the rearview mirror in surprise and whistled. “And a lovely one at that. Ain’t nobody gonna look at you and think you ain’t a belle, that’s for damn sure.”

Druid also seemed surprised, but neither of them held a candle to Octavia’s shock. “You… but… _What_?!”

I flushed a bit at the attention. “T-That’s why I stuttered when you asked my name. I almost said my deadname—twice! It’s weird… I haven’t used it in a couple months, so I dunno why I almost slipped.”

Elle laid her head down on my shoulder and murmured in a distracted voice, “June…”

I turned to her with a smile that quickly morphed into a frown when I realized I had forgotten to tell her to buckle her seatbelt. “Buckle up, Elle.”

She distractedly reached out to grab the seatbelt with her right hand, and Octavia frowned again. “What’s wrong with her?”

I hesitated somewhat, since I didn’t really know Monk. Still, Octavia had asked, and she, Bard, and Druid were good friends with Elle and me, so I pressed ahead. “She’s been through a lot, and her powers… they affect her. She slides back and forth between being able to talk and do things for herself and being nonverbal and needing to be told to do things,” I explained. “We call them ‘good days’ and ‘bad days,’ because it usually takes bad days a while to come over her.” I maneuvered myself a bit until I could get my arm behind her then tugged her into a one-armed embrace. “She was having a good day today too. Normally it takes something really awful to push her into a bad day that quickly. I dunno what happened…”

_“We will save you.”_

It took everything in me to not react visibly when it occurred to me something may be wrong with Octavia. I knew she had powers, but I had respected her wishes for privacy when she never explained how they worked. Did they affect her like mine did? After all, if I hadn’t done testing with Faultline and Newter, then I never would have known about my altered state. _It might be something similar with her, but I didn’t react that well at the idea until they proved it. It’s probably best to not say anything until I can find a way to prove it._

Druid spoke up in the silence, “So, um, I guess I’ll address the _elephant_ in the room.” He chuckled, and I rolled my eyes at the animal powered cape’s pun. “But what the _hell_ was that back there?”

“Whatever it was, it said something to you two at the end,” Octavia pointed out, fixing Elle and me with a look.

“I… I dunno,” I answered honestly. “I would’ve thought some kind of robot, but I couldn’t feel any metal in it. It was all… um, what’s the word…”

“Organic,” Druid supplied.

“Yeah, that. It… Well, it _looked_ like a friend of ours, Ariel. But she _couldn’t_ be that… that _thing_.”

“How do you know?” he intently pressed. “Did you notice something in particular that distinguished it from your friend?”

Everyone but Elle looked to me for answers, and put on the spot, I sputtered, “W-W-Well, it was a _cyborg_.”

“Not a cyborg,” Octavia interjected. “A cyborg is a human with robot parts. That thing was more like an android.”

“I thought cyborg and android were interchangeable,” I admitted. “What’s an android then?”

“It’s a robot made to look like a human.”

_That does fit the bill… It was so real…_

“Back to the original question,” Druid said, the gleam in his eye making his interest in the subject clear. “Do you _know_ your friend wasn’t an android? It was so realistic that I never would have questioned it, but for having seen inside it!”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I… I guess I don’t…”

 _If that_ was _Ariel… Did I just watch her die?_

Elle whimpered a bit, and I tightened my grip around her. Unlike earlier, I couldn’t comfort her with assurances it wasn’t Ariel.

“Well!” Monk said with forced brightness. “Ain’t gonna be but another five minutes or so ‘til we get there.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Octavia blurted. “I need foooood!”

Monk chuckled and asked where she wanted to go, but I couldn’t focus on what was being said as I idly rubbed my sore cheek. Was something wrong with Octavia’s power? Was Ariel an android? Was she… dead? Had she ever been _alive_?

Had… had one of my friends killed another friend?

_“We will save you.”_

_Ariel…_

* * *

I glanced around with interest as Elle and I walked hand-in-hand behind Octavia and the rest of the gang deeper into Woodlands Cemetery. Absolutely ancient graves were assembled all around us under the aegis of also ancient trees, and an air of tranquility hung over everything. Elle’s gaze was distant but swept slowly over it all as we moved along, and I made a mental note of it. I had known she loved the park, but I hadn’t realized she liked graveyards as well. She had told me once she was a fan of old architecture, especially when it had been overrun by nature to the point they had mixed together into something more. Nothing here was at that level—presumably the cemetery had a caretaker—but the stones standing in silent sentinel over our progress still obviously caught her eye.

We came across very few people on our journey into the cemetery, so when a group of three people loitering around came in sight, I knew we had reached our destination. The costumes and gear lying about served to make it all the more obvious.

“We’re baaack!” Octavia called out, waving cheerfully to the three of them. They waved back, and I eyed them curiously as we got closer.

“Got a few extra, did you?” a short guy with sandy brown mohawk asked as he closed the distance to us. He was wearing leather pants and a matching leather, sleeveless jacket over a white tunic, and the brass goggle pushed up onto his forehead looked peculiar because of the magnifying lenses attached by spindly little arms. He barely even looked at Druid, likely having expected him. Instead, he looked to Elle and me inquiringly.

“Yup yup,” my wavy haired friend responded with a wide smile. “They have powers too! And speaking of!” She whirled to face us with palpable excitement and jabbed a finger at us. “It’s time for a power demonstration! Go go go!”

I chuckled awkwardly and gave Elle’s hand a squeeze before letting her go. “I’ll go first, since Elle’s going to need time for her power to soak into the area.”

Octavia was veritably bouncing on her heels as I pulled off my backpack and unzipped it before dumping my coins out on the ground. She blinked at them in confusion, as did everyone else. That confusion vanished when some of the coins shot up to cover my limbs and belly, and I took off into the air as fast as I could with the rest of the coins following after me. Some laughter bubbled out of me as I felt the air rush past my face, and I some of the coins to swirling around me in a ring while the rest spun and twirled through the air. Down on the ground Octavia cheered loudly, and Druid and the person in leather clapped.

Monk abruptly turned and dashed towards a nearby tree before running up it until they got to a branch. With a nimble flick of their body, they launched themself up to a higher branch, then a higher branch, and as they neared the top, they shouted, “Give me so platforms, sugar!”

 _That’s a bit familiar of them, isn’t it?_ I thought, but I obliged nonetheless, diverting chunks of the twirling coins to form several platforms at rising intervals of height and some distance apart. _Oops, those are probably too far apart._

Monk had already leapt to reach the first one, and as I began adjusting the following ones to be a bit closer, they yelled, “They can be further apart, it’s gravy! My power can take it, so you ain’t gotta give me the kiddie gym!”

Despite their assurances, I stuck to forming platforms here and there that let them bounce to and fro, and below us, Octavia shouted out, “Make an obstacle course for them!”

 _Well, if Octavia’s sure, it must be safe_ , I reasoned as I diverted all the coins I wasn’t using to stay afloat towards Monk and began shifting them into rough approximations of bars, window frames, pillars, and more platforms.

“Woah,” I breathed out in awe as Monk abruptly picked up the pace and began to dance, for lack of a better word, through the hodge-podge obstacle course. I knew all about freerunning, since Jess had been into it back in Brooklyn, but _this_ was something else altogether. _This is their power?_ Monk grabbed a hold of a bar mid-jump and used it to redirect their fall towards a platform hanging sideways at an angle, which they used as a jumping pad to launch through a floating circle off to the side and do a roll landing on a different platform. The movements were all familiar enough, but Monk’s speed, jumping strength, and reaction times were all obviously ramped up to above-human levels.

“Come down now!” Octavia called out a minute or two later. “I want to see blondie’s power!”

 _Playtime’s over_ , I wryly thought as I formed the coins into a staircase down for Monk and dipped down myself. I alighted next to Elle and gave her a smile as I ran my hand through my windblown hair to get out some of the knots that had formed. “Let’s show them… Do the hut and the tree, Elle. I know you like that one.”

The other two capes, a man and a woman, had come over to watch from closer up by that point, and as the ground swelled up into the form of an old, worn stone hut with a gnarled tree growing up through its rough, I turned to examine them both. The guy was tall, towering over me really, but he looked friendly enough. His tousled black hair and dark skin offset the gleaming silver of his armor well, and I couldn’t help but admire the sturdy sword and shield sheathed at his belt and back. The lady didn’t look nearly as friendly—a bit severe, really, with her bright blonde hair cropped closely in a way that accentuated her thin face. Unlike him, she looked somewhat out of place in her relatively plain brown dress with its cloth belt and pouches, though I couldn’t help but admire the obviously hand carved rock that was the focal piece of a necklace made of leather straps.

I was pulled away from my observations by Octavia’s excitedly asking Elle, “Can you make _anything_? Tell me, tell me!”

“She can’t, right now,” I reminded her. “She calls it her mind’s eye. When it’s wide open like this, her power is really strong and it doesn’t take as long for the area around her to saturate with her control, but she loses self-control.” Even as I said those words, Elle, who had long since finished crafting her tree and hut, had begun to twist the graveyard all around us. Some of the gravestones grew larger and more monolithic, while others crumbled and swathed in vines and moss. The cracks in the stone path we had walked to get here grew larger and more hazardous with weeds rising to fill the vacant space, and sharp, ominous metal fencing burst forth to frame the path. A few gates littered the fencing, but one gate overshadowed the rest with irregular patches of rust coating its otherwise ornate, sturdy frame and harrowing spikes that looked more fit for the business end of a weapon than the top of a fence. There, beyond the menacing, metal portal laid a grave that had grown far beyond the rest into an imposing stone mausoleum with pillars covered in vines and heavy stone doors sealed shut with an intricate lock made of a polished black metal that shone darkly.

Rather than being frightened by the dark atmosphere, Octavia was positively _giddy_. She loudly squealed with excitement and fervently demanded, “Skeletons! Make the dead rise!”

Immediately the earth of each grave began to disturb, and hands and arms of of chipped and worn bone started to burst forth from them soil. Rotting flesh clung to some of the limbs in torn, bloody strands and limp, sagging pockets, and I gagged a bit at that sight. Everyone but Bard and Octavia did, really, but Elle reacted worst of all. She began to whimper and roughly fell to the ground, catching herself on her palms and knees. Though her jeans protected her knees from the rough, cracked ground, her hands likely didn’t come out nearly as unscathed.

“Elle!” I cried in alarm as I hurriedly took a knee next to her. I gently maneuvered her to lie on her hip instead and made note of the gravel and dirt in the rough cuts covering her palms. _I’ll have to clean them out._

I felt a hand on my shoulder and almost jumped out of my skin as I whirled around. The guy in armor rubbed his hair sheepishly, which explained why it looked so tousled, and he said, “Didn’t mean to startle you. Let me take a look at her.”

“What’re you gonna do?” I guardedly asked, shifting myself so I was between them. I instinctively latched onto his armor, ready to throw him away if necessary.

He noticed my defensiveness and raised his hands placatingly. “Heal her.”

I blinked in surprise. _A healer? That’s really, really rare._ I glanced back at Elle’s knee and winced at the sight of her palms weeping dirty blood. I turned back to him and fixed him with a steady look. “If you hurt her, I’ll crush you in your armor, got it?”

He actually chuckled to my surprise. “Well since I’m only gonna heal her, that won’t be problem, eh?”

A stream of light began to pour out of him like a brook that flowed through the air to wash over Elle’s hands. I did my best to watch what was happening, but my eyes began to tear up after a only few seconds, and I had to look away. When it eventually retreated, I hastily checked on her hands and breathed out a sigh of relief on finding them healthy and whole. “Thank you,” I said, some of the tension washing away.

“No problem,” he replied with a smile as the light seeped back into him. He laid his hand on my shoulder again. “I’m Paladin. This is the kinda thing I’m good at.”

I looked askance at his hand before shuffling out from under it and closer to Elle, who I wrapped my arm around. “Right. Cool.”

His eyes flicked between us, and if anything, his smile widened. “Oh ho, I see. The pretty ones are always already taken.”

I flushed at that, but he wasn’t _wrong_ , so what could I say to that? In any case, Octavia drew our attention back to her when she cheered, “This is _amazing_ !! Yes, yes, yes! I am _so_ keeping you!” A horde of skeletons stood almost unnaturally still all around us, waiting on Elle to direct them. It was a harrowing sight to be sure, but apparently it was right up Octavia’s alley.

“What class will she be?” Bard far more sedately asked from beside her.

“Class? No, no, she’s _better_ than a class! If she can create all of this, then she has to be the _Dungeonmaster_!”

“And what about the coin girl?”

That brought her up short, and she turned to consider me, tapping her finger on her chin. “I _do_ like your power, but what class would you be?”

“I don’t really know anything about D&D,” I cautiously admitted. 

“Is controlling coins the only thing you do? How does your power work?”

 _She can’t figure out what class I am if I don’t explain._ “No. I can feel and control all the metal with a couple blocks of me, I can reshape and meld it to an extent, and I can make one object at a time unmovable.”

Octavia’s lips started to tug up. “Can Dungeonmaster make weapons and armor?”

I tilted my head, unsure where she was going with this. “Sure, but once they leave the area—or she does, for that matter—they’ll eventually fade away.”

“But that means we can give you a test drive,” she declared, beginning to get excited once more.

In short order, Elle was conjuring up some basic armor and a pair of greatswords under Octavia’s direction. “I, um, don’t really know how to use these?”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said, giving me an intense look. “If you’re not good with them at first, then you’ll practice until you’re the best.”

I turned to look at them again and shrugged before leaning over to pick them up. _Well, how hard could it be? Besides, she’s right—I_ can _always practice._ They were heavy, far too heavy for me to ordinarily wield in one hand or maybe even two, but with a casual flex of my power, I lifted them as if they were no heavier than butter knifes. I casually tossed one up into the air in a spin that prompted Paladin and Druid to back away warily. Again, it was a simple matter to get the large weapon’s grip to slap into my hand, and I sliced it through the air. _I’ll need to make it heavy again before just before hitting anything, or it won’t have the same impact._

Octavia clapped at my little display, and I felt a swell of pride as I lifted the armor from the ground and pulled it apart and around my chest and limbs before fusing it back together. “Yes. From now on, your cape name is Dungeonmaster,” she said to Elle.

“And you—you are _Fighter_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading, everyone! When I first started writing this, I wasn't sure if anyone would read it, much less comment on it. It honestly makes me smile whenever I see y'all liking and commenting on something I wrote!


	23. Bell 3.6

I was feeling more than a bit claustrophobic in my armor, but I ruthlessly suppressed my fear as much as I could. _How the hell are you going to be the best with this stuff if you can’t even wear it, June?!_

I was drawn from my self-recrimination by Octavia beginning to bounce up and down while fanning herself. “Okay! Okay, okay, okay. This is _it_! It’s time for things to get epic, so don’t fuck up, noobs!”

“Sure, sure,” Druid answered somewhat nervously.

I narrowly contained the urge to laugh at how over the top Octavia’s excitement was. Thankfully, it seemed to be a bit infectious and helped with the lingering fear still pooled in my gut. “You got it,” I replied instead as I gave my right sword an experimental slash through the air. The sharp metal whistled as it sliced, and I eyed the skeletons Elle had conjured with her power.

“Here we go then!” Octavia boldly declared. “Dungeonmaster, leave me out, but make this a real battle—don’t hold anything back! Everyone else, have fun taking down these skeletons!” She struck a silly pose then added, “Encounter—begin! Go go go!”

Weapons of all sorts and varieties started to appear in the hands of the skeletons around us, then under Elle’s silent direction, the undead began to surge forward. Behind me I heard a yelp that sounded suspiciously like Druid, but I forced myself to keep my eyes on the prize. It was a good thing I did too, since two skeletons were upon me mere moments later. I awkwardly slashed at the one on the right and completely forgot to make the sword heavier until after my attack connected. Fortunately, although the skeleton tried to block my clumsy strike with its arm, the blow cleaved straight through and continued on through its torso. The remnants of the skeleton’s shattered body fell to the grass and didn’t move any further. I was so surprised at the success that I didn’t react in time to the second skeleton swinging a spiked ball on a chain at me. I grunted as I took the blow to the chest, but thankfully the plate armor prevented the spikes from giving me extra breathing holes. It promptly tugged the weapon back and started to spin up for another attack, and seeing other skeletons quickly approaching, I ripped the weapon away with my power and ran one of my swords through its seemingly confused face—it didn’t exactly have a _skin_ or _muscles_ , so it was hard to say.

Several more were almost upon me, so I jumped into the air to give myself some breathing room.

“No cheating, Fighter!” I heard Octavia call out from behind me. 

“Huh? Whaddaya mean?” I asked, turning to give her a confused look.

“Fighters can’t fly!” she argued, jabbing her finger at me. “The whole point of this is you’re only supposed to use your powers in ways the class would! So you gotta stay on the ground and fight them back with your weapons!”

“O…kay,” I muttered as I set myself down in a clear area behind where Paladin and the woman in the brown dress, who had apparently become a moving stone sculpture at some point, were fighting back the skeletons. “Hadn’t realized.”

“Do better! I expect more from you, Fighter!”

 _Come on, June, she’s counting on you! You can swing a goddamn sword, can’t you?_ With a grunt of effort, I burst forward towards the other side of the rock woman, using my power to not only eliminate the weight of the heavy plate armor and swords but to also bolster my speed as close to superhuman levels as I dared with Octavia watching for more ‘cheating.’ The rock woman jumped away from me with a yelp of surprise when I whizzed past and carved through three skeletons with simultaneous, parallel swings of my swords across my front. I leapt back from a blow aimed at my midsection and punished the attacking skeleton with a swing from the much greater range of one of my greatswords before pressing the assault on several more approaching.

“Sorcerer and I can cover over here!” Paladin called out to me. “Give Artificer some backup!”

I had not yet been introduced to Sorcerer or Artificer, but knowing Sorcerer was the stone lady meant by process of elimination that Artificer was the guy in leather with the mohawk. Deciding to push the boundaries of what was acceptable for the game—and who knew all those quests everyone laughed at the Eight for could be so fun!—I turned and took two running steps towards my destination before leaping into the air, flexing my power to give myself extra height and distance. Apparently a running long jump was acceptable for a fighter, since Octavia didn’t express disappointment, and with a whoop of excitement, I landed next to Artificer. The man was being somewhat overrun by merit of being surrounded by four skeletons, but to his credit, he was holding his own admirably well. As I cut down the two on his left, he slammed the pommel of a stolen sword with a broken in half blade squarely into the center of an oncoming blow from an axe before rotating and hooking his free arm around the torso of the skeleton, twisting the enemy around to act as a human—inhuman?—shield. He blocked a bash from the actual shield of a skeleton then wasted no time in shoving his hostage towards its compatriot. While the skeleton fell forward, he maintained a hold on a piece of flesh from it, and once the long piece had tugged free, he somehow tied a knot with one hand around the grip of his busted sword. With the knot secured, he swung his impromptu weapon by its sinuous end with deadly precision in an arc that beheaded first the closest skeleton then, on a second pass, the furthest one.

The makeshift weapon made me raise an eyebrow, but I was forced to parry an incoming blow and could not spare it any extra thought. The moment I blocked the attack I also felt three arrows flying towards me, all of which I instinctively slowed to a crawl when they were almost upon me. I dodged to my right and swung my right sword in an arc up through the wooden shafts of the arrows. The two halves of each arrow fell to the ground as I released my hold on them, and I continued the arcing swing of my sword while bringing up my other weapon, turning myself into a whirling tornado of steel. Dizziness immediately began to set in, so I hurriedly pushed forward into another pack of skeletons and reduced them to broken pieces before stopping my whirlwind attack. I allowed myself a moment to breathe and reorient myself and failed to suppress a snort when I watched a Bard-enhanced Monk do a perfect horse vault off of Druid’s back as the currently rhino cape trampled over a swath of unprepared skeletons. The freerunner cape then did a flip that ended with a vicious kick straight through a skeleton’s pelvis before bouncing into another, equally complicated flip where they snapped the neck of the next skeleton over while still midair.

More arrows sailed towards me, and I smoothly dodged around them by slowing down their flight, but I panicked when I abruptly realized that left them flying towards where Elle was still lying on her hip within the bubble of safety around Octavia. I flung one of my swords in a spin towards the projectiles, which I slowed even further, and when it sliced straight through them lengthwise, I tugged the weapon back to my hand. Octavia saw it all, but she didn’t complain, so I mentally shrugged and returned my attention to cutting down the two skeletons bearing down on me. Once my immediate vicinity was clear, I made another running leap and landed towards the back of the skeletal horde in between two of the archers that had been shooting at me. I arced myself backwards so deeply that I was nearly parallel to the ground, which meant the arrows each had shot at me crossed over my body and flew at each other instead. The one on my left took the blow to its rib cage and fell to the ground in a silent scream of death, but the other arrow only struck a glancing blow on the shoulder of the other skeleton. Still, that blow delayed it from grabbing more ammo, and I brought my sword straight down, cleaving it in twain. The third archer from earlier shot at me, but its arrow only grazed my arm as it whizzed past thanks to a push from my power, and I threw my swords up into the air before snatching up the bow and quiver of the bisected skeleton. I wasn’t quite as smooth at nocking an arrow as the skeletons were, nor was my aim as true as I would have liked, but I course-corrected the projectile mid-flight while boosting its speed, and it all but obliterated the head of the sole remaining archer of the trio when it connected.

Monk landed in a rolling stop next to me and cheered, “That was spectacular!” as they swung their fist into the flat of an oncoming sword strike that shattered the blade in two. “I’ll keep ‘em off of you, so long as you keep that up!”

I tweaked my swords to land blade first in the ground in positions flanking me then drew another arrow from the quiver and took aim. I saw Sorcerer was separated from Paladin across the way and surrounded by a trio of skeletons, so I fired in that direction. With some tweaking, I managed to strike two with one shot, leaving her free to smash the chest of the remaining one with a crushing blow. By that point, the numbers of undead had dwindled to perhaps half what they were at the beginning of the encounter, and I wasted no time in raining down hell on those that lingered.

“Dungeonmaster, give us a big, tough one!” Octavia demanded once the enemy was all but gone. “It’s time for a boss battle!” 

The door of the mausoleum Elle had brought into existence earlier rumbled in response, drawing everyone’s attention to it. Something large struck the doors, sending dust scattering through the air around them. A second blow followed shortly after, and this time the metal lock holding them shut groaned ominously. I shot one last skeleton through its empty eye socket, then, for lack of a better place to put it, I swung the bow over my chest with the string crossing my front and retrieved my swords from where they were embedded in the earth. No sooner had I done so, the lock bent outward then burst apart from a quick pair of blows from whatever laid within. The shadows artfully obscured the inside in such a way that I was convinced Elle’s power was to blame, and for a brief moment, the only sound that shattered the silence created by the door bursting open was growling that carried through the still air of the graveyard.

It wasn’t until I felt the metal take form within that I realized Elle had only been using her power to simulate the effects of something battering the door open from inside. _Three metal rings connected to chains? What cou—?_

My unfinished thoughts were answered when the freshly created creature burst forth from the shadowed entrance of the mausoleum, only stopping when the chains attached to its necks and running back into the structure came up short. Three snarling heads that bore more resemblance to wolves than dogs snarled and snapped at the air with obviously sharp teeth, each head moving independently of its brethren and presenting a foe to be avoided. The shadows of the mausoleum were overrun by flames bursting to life within it, and a wave of sweltering heat washed out over the area. The new source of light highlighted that this creature, whatever it was, was more dangerous than just a set of three fang-filled heads. It’s tail was scaled and had a serpent’s head adorning its tip, and its main body seemed to be wrought from pure muscle. I had no doubt that a single kick from one of its legs would bruise if not outright break bones. Multiple claws around the size of my forearm adorned each paw, and I could only imagine the kind of damage they would inflict on anyone hit by them. Hell, I doubted my _armor_ would stand up to it!

“Hells yeah!” Octavia cheered _because of course she cheered_. “A cerberus! Epic choice, DM!”

Elle—for I could only presume ‘DM’ was short for Dungeonmaster—didn’t seem to notice the compliment. Instead she was shivering and staring at the ground, and though I could not clearly see her eyes from where I stood, I knew what I would see in them. The urge to run to her and comfort her nearly overwhelmed me, but I could already imagine Octavia’s reaction to that. Elle was more important to me, quite frankly, but Octavia had demonstrated a sort of… _charisma_ so far that I knew I wouldn’t be able to deny. That meant the sooner the monster was dead—not that it was actually alive, but whatever—the sooner I could take care of Elle.

_Time to fuck it up then._

An arrow literally leapt from the quiver to my hand, and I promptly took aim with my bow before letting it fly. My shot hurtled towards the cerberus at a blistering pace courtesy of my power, and I hastened to follow it with another while the first almost missed one of the beast’s eyes before a last second adjustment from me put it on course. It _roared_ , and I momentarily fumbled my next arrow as I tried to nock it.

Sorcerer and Monk had both begun to charge towards it, but it was the latter who reached it far, far faster thanks to their buff from Bard. It seemed, however, that their power really was limited to being good at freerunning because even with Bard boosting their strength, their assault didn’t really affect it beyond drawing its attention. But then, that was apparently the entire point, since Monk twisted around it with artful dodges, tricking it into turning its back on Sorcerer as she bore down upon it. She briefly bent over to touch an axe on the ground without stopping her run, then her body unexpectedly began to become _metal_ beginning from the hand she had used to touch the axe. 

I loosed my second arrow while trying to piece together what was happening. _I can actually feel her_ , I realized with a start, as the change to metal rippled across her body. _Her fingers, they’re razor sharp!_

My second arrow slammed into the beast’s right rear leg, sinking deep into the area where its achilles tendon would be if it had one, and barely a moment later Sorcerer reached its hindquarters and took a swipe at its snake tail. Her blow struck true, and the snake hissed in agony as a chunk of itself was carved away. The cerberus retaliated with a flailing kick at her that sent her flying, but it was too distracted by Monk keeping it busy to properly follow up on the opening.

 _Perks of fighting a dumb animal_ , I thought as I slung my bow over myself once more and took up my swords. _The arrows are taking too long on this thing, and Elle needs attention._ I surged forward through a combination of sprinting, making my armor feather light, and literally dragging said armor forward, and in the blink of an eye, I was upon it. The wounded snake tail jabbed forward with a probing bite, but I handily dodged it before jumping up onto its back and racing towards its neck. That unfortunately drew its attention, and one of the cerberus’ heads twisted around far more than it had any right to and tried to take a bit out of me. That frankly suited my purposes just fine, and I dodged its fangs—admittedly somewhat narrowly—before slashing my sword across its eyes.

The creature bellowed in agony, and its other two heads turned to punish my assault. Its efforts were disrupted, however, when Druid slammed into its side horn first. The cerberus was large, but the full weight of a charging rhino was nothing to scoff at, and it stumbled several feet to the side from the force of the collision. This of course meant I was left abruptly standing on naught but air over a dozen feet above the ground, but it was a simple matter to slow my fall closer to the ground.

Monk sidled up to me with a wide grin while Druid kept the cerberus distracted and joked, “You could’ve just rolled, you know.”

“You have your skills, I have mine,” I snarked back.

I readied myself to charge again but paused when Bard’s breaker form slipped out of Monk and towards me. I instinctively flinched away as he began to seep into me, not because of any odd feeling but because somebody was _in_ me— _Ew, not like that, brain!_ —but then I felt the world around me shift. The battle of the beasts suddenly seemed to slow to a crawl, and despite being in the far side of my peripheral vision, I could suddenly see with acute clarity Paladin using his light to burn a line through a tree trunk under Artificer’s guidance.

“Are you going to start killing it or not?” I heard Bard’s voice echo in my ears with his characteristic bluntness. “I can always get back in Monk.”

 _Like hell you are_! “I’m gonna get medieval on its ass,” I replied with gusto. My voice came out deeper and slower than expected, which sent a jolt of panic through me. _Oh god, is Amy’s work coming undone or something?_

“Well yes, that _is_ the point,” Monk quipped with a grin. Their words also came out far deeper and slower than normal, which put my fears to rest.

 _I guess it’s just my reaction times that’s quicker?_ I speculated. There would be time to figure it out later. For the moment, I simply rolled my eyes at the joke and raced forward to reengage with the fight. My suspicion that I was just processing everything quicker seemed to be accurate, since I felt a lot slower despite obviously moving far faster than anyone else. After a few seconds’ sprint relative to me, I made a running leap for the most injured head—namely the one whose eyes I had subjected to my swords a minute ago. That head was the leftmost one, and though it didn’t react to my flight towards it, the middle head must have seen something in its periphery, as it turned and began to lunge towards where I would be landing in a few moments. I saw it coming from a mile away and reversed my grip on my swords before slamming down into the roof of the middle head. The moment the tip of each blade began to sink into its fur, I was already violently separating the blades in opposite directions, cleaving through the relatively thin roof of that head’s snout, which left its upper teeth falling away and its jaw gaping. With Bard enhancing my senses, it was all too easy to see the cerberus’ pained reactions as it initially flailed away then tried and failed to bite me with only its bottom set of teeth, and I leapt into a twisting jump off of the creature. At one end of my spin, I kicked away the mortally wounded head, and on the other end I slashed at the neck of the head I had originally wanted to target before the middle one decided to try and take advantage of my flight. The neck, unlike the roof of a mouth, was much thicker, and though I carved away two large chunks of flesh with my slashes, the wounds were not killing blows. 

The creature’s bulk started to shift away beneath where I would be landing, but with a minor tweak to my spin, I still landed with sure footing and moved further into the middle where I would have more room to maneuver. Down on the ground, I could see Sorcerer had begun harassing the cerberus with quick, brief attacks that seemed to be more aimed at keeping it from moving than doing any real damage. At first I thought this was for my benefit, but then I realized Druid had joined Paladin and Artificer off to the side, and the latter two were strapping the felled tree to his back with short lengths of rope. Judging by the mound of stripped bark by Artificer’s feet, I could only presume he had somehow fashioned the rope from it. For more important, however, was what they had done to the tree itself. The top had been cut off and its bottom carved to a point, making into a makeshift combination between a battering ram and a stake.

 _Going to impale it, huh? In that case, I’ve gotta keep this motherfucker distracted until they’re ready_. The cerberus was currently not facing the three of them, but the tail seemed to have just noticed what I had done and was opening its mouth to alert the heads. I threw one of my swords at the snake’s neck and stabbed my other blade as deep into the flesh of the cerberus’ back as I could to give myself something to hold onto—or at least pretend to hold onto, that is. The first rasping hiss of alarm started to escape the snake, but my sword sliced through its much narrower neck like a knife through hot butter, and the scaly head fell away in a gout of dark blood. As expected, the cerberus bucked in alarm, and I maintained an iron grip on the sword buried in its back while actually keeping myself steady by holding my armor in place while I summoned the sword now on the ground back to my hand. The cerberus started to turn to find the attacker who had felled its tail, but the moment my second sword slapped into the palm of my gauntlet, I planted my feet in its back and shoved off while bringing my first sword with me. I threw each blade at the side heads while I sailed over them, and the swords sank true, piercing straight down through the roof of each mouth into the jaws. The heads roared in alarm, which consequently meant the mouth of each head opened wide. Unfortunately for the stupid creature, the heads eventually tried to close their mouths again, and the tips of the swords still impaled in each head stabbed down into its jaws all over again. Sorcerer took advantage of the distraction to tear viciously into the left foreleg, and Monk rejoined the fray and began to manually drive the arrow I had shot into the right rear leg deeper into the tendon. I meanwhile, deprived of my swords for the moment, unslung my bow and began shooting arrow after arrow at the creature’s eyes with Bard’s power making it easy to track and manipulate multiple arrows at a time.

All of that paled in comparison to what followed, but then, the point had only been to keep it occupied. Druid, still in the form of a rhino, rushed forward as swiftly as his leathery gray legs would allow, and he slammed the sharpened trunk deep into the cerberus’ flank. The beast wailed in agony and tried to jerk away, but I had already thrown aside my bow and begun charging forward while summoning one of my swords to my hand. At the last second I realized this might not actually be possible for a D&D character to do, but I decided it would be better to ask forgiveness than permission and slammed the flat of my blade against the rear of the trunk while using my power to shove the metal, and therefore also the trunk, much further into the cerberus. All three remaining heads released one last noise that could only be described as a death knell, their joint cries echoing together in a warbling harmony, then its legs collapsed and sent its bulk crashing into the ground with a dull thud.

Druid shifted into a fox and deftly dove to the side before the trunk could squash him, and Bard slipped out of me while Artificer and Paladin moved to join those of us around the felled monster.

“Is it dead?” I asked as the seven of us examined it.

“No,” Paladin answered. Sure enough, there were some minute twitches here and there as muscles weakly tried and failed to contract and lift the heavy bulk, and the armored man stepped over while light began to stream out of him in three streams. “But it will be soon.”

The smell of burning meat began to fill the air, and the rest of us gagged a bit. “Octavia, would you mind declaring this adventure is over and asking Dungeonmaster to clean up?” Monk called out, looking green around the gills. “Big baddie is dead, after all.”

Octavia, who had been walking over with something akin to reverence, snapped out of her trance like progression and looked to Monk. “Huh? Oh, sure, that’s fine. Encounter complete!”

I heaved a sigh of relief and rushed over to where Elle still laid shivering with her hip against the cracked and crumbled path. “Elle,” I breathed out, stopping just short of touching her. Rushing into that could spell disaster with how obviously upset she was. “You’re not still hurt, are you? Nod or shake your head to let me know.” A beat of silence passed, then she slowly shook her head, and I let out the breath I had been holding. “May I touch you?”

A nod—immediate this time. Moving slowly so I didn’t spook her by accident, I carefully leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her before hugging her tightly. “I’m here, Elle,” I murmured as I began rubbing soothing circles into her back. “You can get rid of all the scary stuff now, okay?”

I didn’t need to look with my eyes to see the nightmare her power had woven was being undone. I could feel with keen clarity as all of the skeleton’s weapons and the fencing disappeared. When the armor wrapped around me faded away, I just readjusted myself and continued to embrace her. Her shivering still wasn’t dying down, so I moved my mouth to her ear and whispered, “Do you remember that night you scared me with the wolf?” She tensed just a bit and I hurried to add, “Afterwards, you and I stayed up all night reading about how Santa had returned to Narnia because the witch’s magic was getting weak.” She relaxed a bit, and I hoped my plan to distract her might work after all. “It’s funny to think about, but all the gifts the kids got, they all fit me just a bit now, don’t they? I’ve been swinging swords around, shooting arrows, and I know you’ve seen me use my daggers with Faultline during practice.”

I continued babbling to her for a while longer, and though I could hear the others talking nearby, I ignored them for the time being, focusing on calming down my friend—my _girlfriend_ , my brain helpfully reminded me. I flushed just a bit at the thought, but I didn’t shy away from her. _It’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed of_ , I coached myself. _Just because you never thought you’d end up a lesbian doesn’t mean you gotta be a drama queen about it. You like Elle, she likes you—it’s okay to hold her like this!_

As if he had been reading my thoughts, Paladin abruptly raised his voice and said, “Y’know, I’d been worried our group was gonna end up a total sausagefest, so it was a real relief when you came back with these two beauties, Boss.”

I tensed as the flush that had crept its way onto my cheeks abruptly went supernova, leaving me flustered and embarrassed, and I fixed him with a glare over Elle’s shoulder. I had just opened my mouth to tell him to shut up and keep his dick in his pants when Monk beat me to the punch by _literally_ punching him and saying, “Lord almighty, would you just shut up, Pally? Ain’t nobody here is interested in you, ya horndog. ‘Sides, you’re making our new friends uncomfortable!”

“Hey now, I’ll have you know I can be the perfect gentleman!”

Sorcerer, who had reverted back to her normal skin, scoffed and quipped, “That’ll be the day.”

“Everyone quiet down!” Octavia interjected, and Paladin, who had just opened his mouth to retort, snapped his mouth closed with only a bit of grumbling. “You’re all friends,” she reminded us as she crossed her arms and gave each of us a look. “You’re all teammates. You need to fight together against all sorts of monsters and baddies, so figure out how to get along, got it?”

“Got it,” I mumbled, a sentiment echoed by everyone but Elle, who minutely nodded instead with her cheek still pressed against my chest.

“Good. Now, I told the staff to keep everyone else out, but someone passing by might’ve still noticed something, so let’s get out of here before any losers come along to try and spoil our fun.”

“What’re we going to do now?” Monk asked, curiously tilting their head.

“What else?” my friend said with a wide grin. “We’ve got to get our newest three members outfitted with their new costumes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bum bum bum. Another week bites the dust! Geez oh wow did this one really flew by or what?
> 
> Fun fact, in my original plan for the arc, this chapter and 3.5 were one chapter. Needless to say, that would have been a long chapter, and I've been trying to rein myself in a bit this arc after all the crazy long chapters in Forge.
> 
> Life is trucking along over here for my partner and I, and we've definitely had our share of ups and downs where their health is concerned. Hopefully we'll have good news early November after we do a test for a spinal stimulator that should help with their pain levels. We thankfully got out this past weekend to go on a brief trip to the beach, and we enjoyed some time together letting the waves and sand wash over our feet.


	24. Bell 3.7

“Why are we here, again?” I complained as I turned to look out the study room window behind for what felt like the thousandth time. Bookshelves lined with books of all shapes and sizes were present no matter where I looked with a smattering of people searching the shelves here and there. Far more people were gathered at the study carrels filling a little carpeted oasis, all huddled over laptops and notebooks. There was a smattering of tables there too, likely intended for use by study groups, but those were almost completely empty. Those few study groups that were present had all situated themselves, as we had, into the small sealed rooms that lined most of the outer walls.

Nothing substantive had changed since I last looked, but I just couldn’t sit still.

Apparently this wasn’t unnoticed. “You’re fidgetier than one of them Mexican jumping beans, Fighter,” Monk drawled with an amused expression. “What’s bothering you, hon?”

“You mean _besides_ attacking a university library for no actual gain?”

“I think you meant to say ‘an ivy league university library.’”

“ _Not making me feel better,_ Monk!” I retorted with a glare. “What’s the fucking point of this?”

“Y’know, it’s still funnier than hell to hear that kind of vulgarity coming out of a cute lil’ thing like you.” I opened my mouth to better acquaint them with exactly how much vulgarity could come out my mouth, but they held up a hand. “Chillax, hon, I can appreciate why you’re anxious. Truth be told, I ain’t got a clue why Octavia does this sort of thing. I thought it was weird at first too, but you know her—always has a way of soothing ruffled feathers. I’ve long since learned it’s easier to go with the flow.”

I grumbled and turned back to the desk before propping my head up on my elbow. “This has been fun and all, but I really miss my friends, and Elle’s been doing really poorly. Has Octavia mentioned when we can see them again?”

Monk leaned forward with a glint in their eye. “Octavia ain’t talked to you about your friends?”

“No…?” I warily answered. _I don’t like where this is going. Not at all._ I liked Monk—they seemed like an interesting, fun loving sort from the interactions I’d had with them so far. None of that changed my instinctively reaching out to the metal legs of the table, the door’s hinges, and all the smaller bits of metal here and there in the room. I clutched at Elle’s hand, and maybe it was my imagination, but I swore she squeezed back. “When are we seeing our friends?”

They continued to stare at me for another minute—no words, barely any movement. Just staring. When they finally moved to check the basic digital watch on their wrist, the tension in the room had become so thick I nearly lashed out with the metal tray for dry erase markers on the bottom of the whiteboard behind Monk. “The rest of them ain’t getting here for another twenty minutes or so, but depending on how you answer, we might need all of that time. So listen up and listen good, you hear?”

I frowned but nodded, and they continued. “Near as I can tell, she can’t make any’a y’all forget anything, but she _can_ tell y’all not to think about something. Following me?”

“Well I—” I blinked and frowned. “Wait, what were we talking about again?”

“Dammit, she told you not to think about her power, didn’t she? And here I was thinking little miss airhead had forgotten to fill you up with any’a her safeguards. Shit. _Shit_.” They sighed and rubbed a weary hand over their eyes as they began to mutter a litany of swearing under their breath that I could only just barely hear.

I looked to Elle in confusion. Naturally she didn’t return my gaze, but at least _Elle_ I understood. _What is Monk going on about?_

“Well, I guess beggars can’t be choosers,” they finally said, seemingly to themself, as they pulled the hand away. They pushed their chair back onto two legs to the point that they seemed seconds away from falling on their ass, but for all I knew, their power protected against that kind of thing. “You do know Octavia has a power, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ah ah ah,” they interrupted. “Time’s important, and I’ve got questions that need answering before we can get to yours. Now then: Do you know _what_ Octavia’s power is?”

“N-No,” I answered, not liking where this was going. _Did they notice the same thing I did? Are Octavia’s powers affecting her negatively after all?_

“What if I told you O̶̞͐͌̑̓̀̀͗̃̓̉̚̕̕͝c̵̢̨̠̪̮͍͖̳͔̤̟̰̩̅ͅt̸̢͙̬̣̪̹̖̥͙̲̬̫̠̗͈̽̓̀̇̃͒̍̇̓̓̒a̴̼̖͎̘̣͖̙̍͒̍̾̊̽v̷̧̡̧̩͙̹̻͕̮̳̹̏̂̃̉̇̐̾̂̊́̔i̷̪̫͕͕̱͗͂́͋̍̊͆̊̓͘̚͘ä̶̧̦̲̩̭̗́ ̵̧̖̰̻̹̼̋̈́̎̈́͝ȋ̷͎̺̗͇̩͐̈́̓͒͜s̶̩̝͍̻̭̹͆͆̉̀́͗̅̈̂͌̽͘ͅ ̵̹͎̲̼͕̯́́́̓͛̔̈́͋̍̑͠͝a̸̧̤̫̼̘͎̬̍̐̇͛̐ ̷̢̢̡̬̯̦̱̦̳̯͕͌̈̾M̶̘͍̺̣̰̙̖̻̜͗̿͂̿̇̾͝ḁ̷̢̣̠̘̭͔̯̝͓̭̪̭̆̈́̓̃͜s̵̘̐̎t̵̘̦͇̱̭̬̠̠͑̾̆̑̾̋̽͆͂̑͜͝͝ę̸̹̘͉͈r̷̛͔̪̟͖̬̝͆̈́̌̾̄͂̉͌?”

I blinked. Then I blinked again. _What the actual fuck?_

“Now,” Monk said, drawing me out of my thoughts. “What did I just say to you? Word for word, if you please.”

“Y-You said, ‘What if I told you,’ then it was like you broke into tongues or something.”

They smiled darkly at that. “Nah, that won’t speaking in tongue, hon. But it did answer my question. She told you not to think about her power, so now you can’t. Kinda limits planning our daring escape, but gotta take what you can get, I suppose”

 _“She told you not to think about her power.”_ The words seemed to echo in my mind, and I paled dramatically. _Not Octavia? There’s no way her—When are the rest of the crew getting here? We’ve got to get—Shit, wait, I was… I was trying to think about—When was the last time Elle ate? I’ve got to make sure she keeps her strength—No, no, no,_ stop _it! Why do I keep losing track of my thoughts when I wonder—_

“Figh— _June_! You’ve got to _stop_!”

Someone was yelling at me, but I couldn’t understood who or why. I grabbed at my head and slammed my eyes shut, but I couldn’t help the whine that escape me. My breathing accelerated to a frantic pace, and everything was wrong, wrong, _wrong_. I didn’t want to believe it, that my friend could have done something like that, but now that I was trying desperately to calm myself down by thinking about how her power _couldn’t_ work that way, my thoughts kept slipping, and that was making everything _worse_ , and—

My head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, and with a start I realized my hand was gripping the handle of a sword. It wasn’t one of my new greatswords and was clearly haphazardly constructed. I must have made it unconsciously while panicking. People outside the room were screaming, and the walls in the study room we had been occupying to give Elle’s power time to take hold _writhed_. Chains shot out and wrapped around Monk’s limbs then jerked back with a snap, eliciting a yelp of pain from them as they were pulled up into the air and suspended there.

_Goddammit, no! Octavia’s gonna be pissed. We weren’t supposed to start anything yet!_

I was reminded I had a more pressing concern, however, when Monk cried out, “Stop, please! I wasn’t trying to hurt her!”

“E-E-Elle,” I stuttered, trying to wet my mouth, which was suddenly dry. “Stop h-hurting M-Monk.”

The chains slackened somewhat but didn’t fall away, leaving Monk suspended in the air by their wrists, which couldn’t possibly be comfortable. I opened my mouth to clarify that she should let them down, but I froze when the doorknob behind us rattled. I whirled around to the locked door, a solid wooden piece that in stark contrast to the window that covered nearly half the wall, and I glanced down at my sword. I grimaced when I noticed it was far too dull to be of any use, not that I had expected better from my power’s lack of fine control, and I readied myself to use it as a club instead as I reached out to the doorknob with my power.

In the end though, I didn’t need to open the door. In a flare of blue and red light, it split in half. I dropped my sword with a start when I saw Faultline in full costume behind it.

“Faultline!” She held up a kid’s water gun when I started forward to greet her, and I stopped short, blinking in confusion at it. In fact, now that I was properly looking at her, I could see another under the skirt of her costume and a much, much larger one strapped to her back. _What in the world?_

“I’m looking for some cabbage,” she asked, her voice deadly serious. “Do you know where I can find some?”

“Huh? Wha—” I started to say before replaying what she had just said. For a solid week she had practically beaten into me the team’s version for how to identify if someone was under the effect of a Master’s or Stranger’s powers, and she had made a point to quiz me at completely random times since then. “N-Not at all,” I replied, “but I know a good place to get some soup, if you’re interested.” _God, our code phrases are so stupid._

She diverted the water gun to the side so it was aimed more at Monk behind me, but I didn’t doubt for a second she would snap it back to me in a heartbeat if I made a wrong move. _“I cannot stress enough,”_ she had said to me at the start of my training on what to say and when to say it, _“how important it is that you restrain yourself from making any sudden moves in a possible Master-Stranger situation. I_ will _be forced to take you down if I suspect you’ve been compromised. Is that clear?”_ Her head turned minutely toward Elle, and she asked, “And Labyrinth?” She paused for a moment before asking, “Bad day?”

I frowned in confusion. “Dungeonmaster is having a bad day, yeah. Has been since the middle of yesterday,” I answered before asking, “Who the hell is _Labyrinth_?”

The plastic of the water gun made a cracking noise as Faultline’s grip on the toy tightened, which only made me more confused. “We’ll address this later, Meteor. For now, we need to get you two out of here.”

“No, no, no, hang on,” I blurted as I took a step away from her. “You just did it again! Uh, w-what’s—okay, _it sounds like there’s a fox in the hen house_.” _This can’t really be Faultline. She doesn’t even know our cape names!_

“Of course there is,” she tightly responded, “ _I’m right here, aren’t I_? Remember your training and _stand down_. You’ve been mastered, and we need to get you both out of here _now_.”

“It’s Octavia,” Monk suddenly spoke up, and Faultline’s gun snapped fully into position, aimed straight at them. “She implanted commands in them to stop them from thinking about her power. As long as you can hear her, she can get you!”

“We know,” Faultline intoned before pulling the trigger on the gun. A concentrated stream of liquid shot forward and struck Monk in the face, and instead of laughing off being shot with a water gun of all things, they slumped with a dazed expression on their face. An expression I realized I knew far too well.

“Newter’s spit is in that thing?” I said, looking askance at it.

She turned to look vaguely in the direction of the stairs leading down to the entrance, then in lieu of answering said, “Come on, girls, it’s time to go.”

 _You know what? Even if she isn’t the real Faultline, Faultline will have my hide if she ever hears I didn’t trust someone who looked like her and passed two code phrases._ I took Elle’s hand in mine, and together we silently moved to follow her.

Faultline reached up to her earpiece and said, “Sebastian, I have the girls. We’re making our way to the northwest fire exit. How do things look down there?” She abruptly stopped, and I pulled us to a stop before we could run headfirst into her. She started to lead us back towards where we came, and while we hustled to follow, she said, “Copy that. We’ll move to the roof, and Me—” She stopped and briefly looked over her shoulder at me without breaking her stride. “We’ll fly away to the extraction point.”

She removed her hand from the radio and reached into one of her many storage pockets before passing back two adhesive domino masks—again, without looking over her shoulder. “Put these on. And remind me what cape names you’re using right now.”

“Right now?” I repeated, baffled. “But we’ve always—” She turned to look over her shoulder, and though I couldn’t see her face through her welder’s mask, I could one hundred percent imagine the look she was probably shooting me. I grimaced and let go of Elle’s hand, so I could stick the mask to my face. _Mastered_ —the word had never seemed as toxic as it did right then as I tried to wrap my head around the accusation that _we_ had been mastered. “Right, sorry, just… Sorry. Dungeonmaster and F-Fighter. I thought you w-would know.”

We ducked behind a shelf and came to a stop, and she laid a gentle hand on each of us. “I understand this is difficult for both of you, and I promise we will take time to sort everything out later. For now, we need to get to the roof, then… _Fighter_ , I’ll need you to extract us by flying us away. Do you think you can do that?”

I paled and shook my head frantically as I finished helping Elle put her mask on. “No! No, I’m sorry, I can’t. Octavia asked us to stay for the adventure. We _have_ to stay!” I felt a lot metal moving upwards in the vicinity of the stairwell, and I turned to look that way. “Who’s coming up the stairwell?”

“That’s the PRT,” she carefully explained. A bit of a hurried note had found its way into the timbre of her voice, and I felt myself tensing up in response to it. “They’ve doubtlessly come to rescue Stardust. She’s been calling herself Sorcerer since she was abducted from Chicago.”

I tilted my head as I processed that. _That’s where Octavia and everyone else were before they came here to meet up with Druid._ “But Sorcerer wasn’t abducted,” I pointed out in confusion. “She became friends with Octavia.”

As if summoned by the mention of her name, I suddenly heard Octavia’s voice resound through the building, likely amplified by Bard’s power. “Good afternoon, University of Pennsylvania!””

I perked up, recognizing what was about to happen. _It’s starting!_

Faultline noticed me shift and moved to grab the water gun she had holstered on her hip, and on instinct I grabbed hold of all the metal she had on her and shoved it backwards away from us. I cringed sympathetically as I heard her grunt when she fell to the floor, but that didn’t stop me from twisting the metal of the nearby shelves into a shield to keep Elle and I from being sprayed.

“Are you ready for an adventure with Octahedron?”

“I’m so sorry!” I called out while I reached out to the box on the roof containing Elle’s costume and my armor and weapons and started bringing them around and down to near us. I grabbed Elle’s hand and dragged her down the aisle the instant I saw the first flicker of red and blue light on my hobbled together shield. “Please don’t hate me—I have to!”

“Because here we go! Encounter beg—!”

 _Octavia?_ I thought in concern as her booming voice cut off mid-word. I didn’t know what had happened, but apparently what was said was still enough of a cue to Elle that we should start, since the library around us began to twist and morph. The long bookshelves and the floor around us began to slit apart and twist into hulking trees made of dark, gnarled wood with long, drooping leaves. I brought us to a hasty halt as the floor we were standing on became part of one of the monstrous trees extending down to what remained of the floor below, and I heard Faultline swear behind us as the age worn remains of a forgotten monument sprung up between her tree and ours. Down below, I could see and hear the library’s patrons panicking and shouting as the floor beneath their feet turned to soggy dirt or murky swamp water.

“Thanks,” I told Elle, giving her hand a quick squeeze as our costumes sailed in through a gap where the window panes spanning the building had already begun to vanish. I brought the bulky box to a hover next to us and immediately began to fish out Elle’s new costume. She was already wearing her fitted, brown leather pants, which were very distracting if I paid them too much attention, as well as her dark green tunic. Those were the elements that, although eyebrow raising, weren’t likely to have prompted anyone to call the PRT about a cape afoot, especially with no mask in sight. The costume parts that _would_ have provoked that reaction had been kept in the box. First came the pale green cloak, which clasped together by Elle’s neck and flowed down to around her knees. The leather belt came next with its clear compartments full of different types, sizes, and colors of dice. The final piece in the box was her relatively plain dark green domino mask, but the true final piece was her Dungeonmaster screen, a trifold board that Elle conjured into existence under her own power. The message to our party was clear; so long as she held that board, Elle— _Dungeonmaster_ —was in control of the area.

I felt the hook of Faultline’s climbing gear launch to the next tree over, but I let it be. I didn’t want her to come around and threaten us with Newter’s spit—or anything else, for that matter—but the last thing I wanted was to mess with her grapple and cause her to fall and get injured. Instead, I focused on the task at hand and tugged my chainmail shirt over the red, long-sleeved and high collared shirt I was already wearing. The chainmail pants came next, and I hastily used the discrete clamps designed to hold them together with the shirt. By that point Faultline had swung over to a better vantage point, but she kept her water gun holstered, likely thinking I would probably be injured by the fall to the swamp below or else fearing how Dungeonmaster might retaliate. Regardless of why, I was grateful, since it freed up my attention to don the rest of my costume. The plate chest with its intricately etched swirl and attached skirt of red cloth went over my chainmail, then pauldrons that guarded my shoulders and upper arms and also bore swirls. My gauntlets and boots that continued the swirl motif were quick to follow, and the helmet with its adjustable faceplate and faux ponytail of red feathers completed the armor portion of the costume, leaving my dark hair streaming down over the plate. For my weapons I attached two leather belts. My greatswords were sheathed in their scabbards, which hung from the first belt, and used a combination of metal rings and another leather belt to keep the scabbards tilted at an angle. My quiver was chock full of arrows and attached the second belt such that it rested snuggly against the small of my back. I kept my metal recurve bow out for now, but it would be easy enough to sling it over myself and switch to my swords as needed. Unlike Paladin’s armor, which was exclusively made of gleaming plate, mine was much darker in color, and the red cloth and chain mail deepened the differences between us.

I let the metal box our gear had been stored in fall down into the swamp with a wet, sloppy splash, and I eyed Faultline with my helmet’s visor still up. “Thanks for letting me gear up,” I remarked.

“Naturally,” she replied. “I would never do it now, where you may fall and get hurt.”

 _That answers that then._ “I don’t want to hurt you either,” I admitted. I paused, anxiously biting my lip, then softly added, “Please don’t make me.”

“There are rules, I imagine.” She shifted somewhat on the branch, and my eyes shot to her hands, but they never strayed closer to the water guns on her hips. “What are the rules of engagement? How can we stop this without hurting you?”

I bit my lip again, feeling torn. I was confident that Octavia probably wouldn’t want me to explain the encounter to Faultline, but she hadn’t explicitly said _not_ to, and Faultline was a very good friend, whom I had known for weeks now and had always been good to me in her own way. “It’s an adventure in a swamp,” I explained. “An evil witch has cursed it, making it a breeding ground for—”

My right hand snapped to my quiver, and I spun to aim my bow at a monstrous crocodile closing in on a patron below, who had been trying to make their way out of the water to a small island of dirt around a weeping willow. In one fell swoop, I drew the arrow and released it before accelerating its flight into the beast’s gaping maw. It made a loud, whining sort of growl when the blow struck true before being silenced by the second arrow, which I had sent flying after the first, piercing straight through its head.

“—those and more,” I finished. “Far worse things. We have to kill enough of her devil spawn to draw her out, so we can slay her and end the curse.”

“I see,” she responded. I detected a bit of surprise in her voice, but I couldn’t fault her for that. It wasn’t like I had used a bow and arrows while on missions with her and the rest of our mercenary crew. “So to clarify, we need to kill enough of Lab— _Dungeonmaster’s_ projections. Eventually, she will create a witch, and killing the witch satisfies the game.”

“Yes, that’s right!” I eagerly confirmed. “I mean, we’re leaning into the game more than viewing them as ‘Dungeonmaster’s projections,’ but that’s the gist of it.”

“And anybody can join in on killing the projections?”

 _Huh. Octavia never talked about that._ “I dunno. I mean, I don’t see why not, but it wasn’t really brought up.”

She reached up to her earpiece. “Labyrinth has filled the swamp with projections. The Eight will be aiming to kill them. Help them. I repeat, _help them_. The sooner they’re all dead, the sooner we can get our people out of here.”

“There you go again, talking about ‘Labyrinth,’” I pointed out, a frown tugging down my lips. “Who _is_ that?”

“I promise I will explain when this is all settled,” she deflected as she adjusted her climbing gear. “For now, please remember this: Your friends are all here, and we all want to _help you_. We’re ending this, then we’re bringing you _home_.”

I felt a tightness in my chest, and I felt Elle’s hand reach out and grip mine, her delicate hands feeling so small in my gauntlet. “We’d like that,” I blurted, and I was surprised to realize I did. Being with the rest of the Eight had been fun at parts, and I really liked my new costume, but I missed them. I missed all the fun with Aisha and Newter. I missed Gregor’s gentle presence. I missed the safety I felt under Faultline. I missed Masuyo worrying about me. I missed…

_“We will save you.”_

_I want that back._

“Please.” The word had escaped my lips unbidden, and Faultline looked up from where she had been preparing to rappel down her tree.

“Meteor?”

Tears began to leak from my eyes, and I think I finally understood. It wasn’t the word itself—it meant nothing to me. It was the way she said it, the familiarity—the _fondness_.

_“We will save you.”_

_It makes no sense_.

_O̶̞͐͌̑̓̀̀͗̃̓̉̚̕̕͝c̵̢̨̠̪̮͍͖̳͔̤̟̰̩̅ͅt̸̢͙̬̣̪̹̖̥͙̲̬̫̠̗͈̽̓̀̇̃͒̍̇̓̓̒a̴̼̖͎̘̣͖̙̍͒̍̾̊̽v̷̧̡̧̩͙̹̻͕̮̳̹̏̂̃̉̇̐̾̂̊́̔i̷̪̫͕͕̱͗͂́͋̍̊͆̊̓͘̚͘ä̶̧̦̲̩̭̗́ ̵̧̖̰̻̹̼̋̈́̎̈́͝ȋ̷͎̺̗͇̩͐̈́̓͒͜s̶̩̝͍̻̭̹͆͆̉̀́͗̅̈̂͌̽͘ͅ ̵̹͎̲̼͕̯́́́̓͛̔̈́͋̍̑͠͝a̸̧̤̫̼̘͎̬̍̐̇͛̐ ̷̢̢̡̬̯̦̱̦̳̯͕͌̈̾M̶̘͍̺̣̰̙̖̻̜͗̿͂̿̇̾͝ḁ̷̢̣̠̘̭͔̯̝͓̭̪̭̆̈́̓̃͜s̵̘̐̎t̵̘̦͇̱̭̬̠̠͑̾̆̑̾̋̽͆͂̑͜͝͝ę̸̹̘͉͈r̷̛͔̪̟͖̬̝͆̈́̌̾̄͂̉͌_. 

_But does it have to?_

Ariel had thought we needed to be saved. Alone, I didn’t understand. Alone, I couldn’t save myself—save _Elle_. But we weren’t alone. I had lost my home, my city, but along the way, I had found friends, _real_ friends. Friends I could count on.

_Let it ride._

“Save us,” I plead, hoping she knew what we needed saving from. _I’m putting my trust in you, Melanie._

A moment of silence passed, then she promised, her voice steady and sure. “We will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno if y'all enjoy these as much as I do, but I was literally crying as I wrote this ending. Our little girl is growin' up, y'all!!
> 
> This chapter is going out early today! Hooray! That's because I have a busy day ahead celebrating my birthday! Today's not the actual day itself, but my fam and a couple of friends (don't worry, we're being safe) are going to celebrate with a quick visit to a pumpkin patch (my partner wants to paint a pumpkin), then we're going to a self-serve Korean BBQ for lunch!


	25. Bell 3.8

“We will.”

I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until air whooshed out of me in a sigh of relief.  _ She understands.  _ Faultline gave me a quick nod, seemingly acknowledging my reaction, then promptly began rappelling down the tree to the swamp below. 

I looked to Dungeonmaster and told her, “I’m going to bring us down. I’ve got you, okay?” No response, but that was expected. There weren’t many good ways to carry her that wouldn’t treat her like a sack of potatoes, so I defaulted to carefully sweeping her up into a bridal carry. Her arms automatically moved to wrap around my neck, and I flushed a bit at the intimacy of how I was holding her but did my best to focus on the matter at hand. I leapt from our branch to a nearby lower one then another. By the fourth branch, there weren’t any more at a lower level to jump to, but we were finally close enough to the ground. I took one last leap and landed in a kneeling position that doubtlessly would have led to broken bones if I hadn’t been using my power to make carrying Dungeonmaster and all the jumps easy. As it was, I could imagine Jess or Monk giving me a hard time.

Thinking of Monk and the predicament we had left them in brought a grimace to my face as I gently set down Dungeonmaster. I could just barely hear the faint sounds of fighting from the direction where the front of the library would have been, but now that the encounter had begun, I knew Monk was in danger. Octavia had made it clear to Dungeonmaster that the monsters shouldn’t hurt the patrons but could do so to us—“To make it more realistic!”—so that meant getting to Monk and protecting them was my first priority if I didn’t want them to end up dead. Killing monsters in the process meant I was accomplishing what Octavia wanted me to, which made it a win-win scenario.

Faultline had touched down nearby between two roots that had risen up through the soft soil and was busy remotely disengaging the hook lock on her rappelling gear. I called over to her, “The witch’s spawn might attack Monk. Will you help us find and rescue them?”

The hook came loose, and she tugged it free from the branch she had attached it to. As she quickly coiled it to store it in her costume once more, she replied, “I am only concerned with the two of you.”

“Well, the two of us are going to go help Monk, just so y’know,” I quipped back as I took Dungeonmaster’s hand in mine and began leading her forward. I knew the room we had been in with Monk wouldn’t be far from where we were, since the actual dimensions of the swamp matched those of the library. Presumably they would still be strung up in a tree somewhere near there, but with Dungeonmaster’s power, it was impossible to say for sure until we got there. Behind me I heard Faultline begin relaying orders over her comms system to kill any abnormal creatures, and I heard the soft squish of her boots as we moved through a particularly soggy patch. I smiled.  _ She’s coming with. _

I saw a flash of movement in my left periphery, and I hastily tugged Dungeonmaster behind me while drawing one of my swords. A large humanoid creature with green flesh was upon us an instant later, and I just barely managed to parry a blow from one of its large, clawed hands. Unfortunately, a second attack from the other hand came straight after, and I grunted as the force of the blow pushed me back and to the side, exposing Dungeonmaster. I had no idea whether Octavia had instructed her to leave herself vulnerable to the witch’s minions, and I didn’t intend to find out. I hastily swung with my drawn blade down towards the space between the creature and her, and sure enough, it began to lunge towards her with a cry that immediately set my nerves on edge. Thankfully I had acted quickly enough, and my blade sliced through the creature’s flesh, parting its hands from its arms. It screamed, a sound that was somehow more horrific than the one it had made just a moment ago, and twisted to try and take a bite out of me. With a quick quarter twist of my sword and a push from my power, I slammed the flat of my blade into its side just before its teeth could reach me and sent it flying back a dozen feet or so.

Now that I wasn’t so close to it, I could properly examine the creature while I drew my second sword, and what I found wasn’t pleasing to the eyes, to say the least. The green flesh hadn’t been a trick of the eye, and it was rotting or outright missing flesh in several places, revealing its musculature underneath. Those areas that  _ were _ whole had random collections of growths, and a dark blue fluid that was presumably its blood was oozing out of the stumps where its hands had been. All of that coupled with the creature’s long, lanky black hair and the sharp yellow fangs it was baring at me made for a disgusting visage.

Faultline, who stood some feet away, drew one of the water guns at her hip and sent a shot of water laden with Newter’s spit at it. I wasn’t sure whether the liquid would have had any effect on Dungeonmaster’s projections, but it was a moot point, since the creature surged forward towards me, putting itself out of the line of fire. Its bulk belied its speed, but this time there had been more distance, and I was prepared. I took a step forward and braced myself with my rear foot, and as the creature reached me, I used the superior reach of my swords to stab towards its face. It must have had some degree of intelligence, as I saw its eyes widen in alarm, but by then it was too late to properly dodge with the unsure footing of the bog and all its weight pressed forward into an attack. My sword pierced straight into its nose and out through the back, and despite my braced footing, it was only thanks to my power that I actually managed to stay upright when its momentum continued forward and its full weight hit my arm. A gurgling death knell rasped out of the beast’s throat, and it fell limp on my blade.

Unfortunately, by that point I had bigger fish to fry. I shifted my attention to the similar creatures that had begun racing towards us with a screeching war cry from their fang filled mouths. Faultline immediately turned to a nearby tree while holstering her water gun then planted her hands on it. Blue and red light flared across it horizontally between where her hands laid, and she quickly moved aside as the tree fell towards where she had been standing. As it crashed to the ground between us and the creatures, she drew a different gun. This one I could feel, and I readily identified it as her semi-automatic pistol—a beast of a weapon compared to the fare I usually felt concealed on people’s persons when I walked down the street. She aimed over the tree, and when the first two of the creatures began to scramble through the branches jutting up from it, she put a bullet in the head of each.

The ones behind them proved these creatures were, in fact, intelligent after all by fanning out to make it more difficult for Faultline to quickly take them out. 

“I’m on left!” Faultline yelled to me while taking aim at one trying to flank her. “Cover right!”

“On it!” I shouted back as I swapped my swords for my bow and swiftly loosed two arrows, the most I could manage the flight of at once. I curved the first arrow up into where I hoped the heart of the creatures were, and the second I tried to strike in the head but ended up missing because it made a split second dodge. I immediately killed the momentum of the aluminum arrow shaft to make it easier to retrieve the unspent ammo later and began firing at the remaining enemies. Thankfully there weren’t dozens of them, so their assault dwindled relatively quickly, but the two of us fought them off for maybe a solid minute before the last of them finally fell. I started collecting as many of my arrows as I could from the corpses while Faultline ejected her clip and fished out another, then to my dismay, once I was some distance from Dungeonmaster, one of the ‘dead’ surged to its feet and towards her.

“No!” I cried as I tried to knock an arrow in time, but it was already almost upon her.

A gunshot rang out, and red mist exploded out the side of a fresh hole in the side of its head. A distressed noise that was half relief half disgust found its way out of the back of my throat when I saw Dungeonmaster was fine, albeit bathed in a fresh coat of blood. I dropped my bow in favor of rushing straight over and immediately swept her up in a hug, blood be damned. “ _ Elle _ ,” I breathed out as I spun us around an inch off the ground. “Fucking hell, you scared the shit out of me.”

The wet squelch of Faultline’s boots slogging through the blood soaked bog reached my ears, and I heard her say behind me, “Are you two unharmed?”

I carefully set my friend down and asked, “Nod your head yes if you’re hurt. Shake it if you’re not.” When she shook her head no, the lingering tension in me bled out. I turned to Melanie, and I shook my head as well. “I’m fine too.  _ Thank you _ .”

“Good. We need to press on then,” she replied not unkindly. “The sooner this is over, the sooner we can get you two out of here. Now, are you sure I can’t convince you to regroup with the rest of the crew?”

“Monk’s likely gonna get hurt because of us if we don’t do something,” I answered as I reached out my hand and summoned my bow and the half nocked arrow on its string. “Sorry, boss.”

“Very well,” she allowed, though from her tone, it was obvious she was saying so begrudgingly. “Let’s hurry.”

The three of us made quick progress after that, only encountering a couple of monstrous crocodiles and one more of the creatures from earlier on our way. It helped that, though a swamp was certainly tougher terrain to navigate than a carpeted library, we really weren’t very far from where the room had been. After we passed another tremendous weeping willow, I saw them. The limb of a massive tree stretched out over a shallow pool, and Monk hung limply underneath it a couple dozen feet above the water, still securely wrapped in chains that were now wrapped around the branch. Unfortunately they weren’t alone: Right underneath them was what looked like the bastard child of a frog, an octopus, and a shark but super-sized to the point it was roughly fifteen feet tall. Its wet green skin had a slippery-looking sheen to it, four writhing tentacles jutted out from its torso, and its eyes—all three of them!—sat on stalks perched atop its head. Its eyes were focused on Monk as it sloshed through the water, its frontmost pair of tentacles already reaching up towards the unconscious cape while a long forked tongue with suckers lining its forked tips lolled out of its fang-filled mouth.

Its intent was clear. There was no time to plan our attack, not if we wanted to avoid Monk becoming frog food. I drew my bow almost without thinking, while an arrow slipped out of my quiver to my hand via my power. “Hey ugly!” I yelled at it as I drew back the string. One of the eyes twisted around and locked onto us, and I let my shot fly. Fortunately for us, the monster apparently wasn’t anywhere near as nimble as the smaller creatures we had fought earlier, and the arrow crashed into the eye staring at us at a blistering speed. Since it had been moving as fast as I could make it, it pierced cleanly through before sinking into the upper branches of the tree Monk hung from.  _ That _ got its attention, and with a deep screech of pain, its remaining two eyes snapped around as it abandoned the easier prey of Monk. In a flash, its tongue flew towards us, and I only just barely managed to dodge out of the way in time, falling halfway into the water for my troubles.

Faultline didn’t bother reaching for her water gun this time, likely presuming the monster would be just as unaffected by Newter’s spit as the creatures earlier had been, but she did reach for her pistol. She took several shots at the region where its eye stalk met its voluminous body, likely hoping to get a lucky shot at its brain, and I hurried to push myself up out of the water. The monster didn’t seem to mind the bullets, however, as it simply tanked them as its tongue launched towards Faultline this time. She dodged out of the way far more neatly than I had, and she dropped her shooting stance in favor of slapping her free hand on the tongue. That portion of the tongue flared with light, but apparently Dungeonmaster’s power was capable of mimicking life enough to trigger the Manton limitation on Faultline’s power because the area she touched didn’t split in two. Worse yet, the monster’s tongue was apparently prehensile, as the tips bent back and slapped its suckers on her arm. She grunted in surprise as the appendage began to retract while bringing her with it.

“Faultline!” I yelled in alarm as I finally pulled myself out of the morass. I tossed my bow aside and hastily drew my swords. I couldn’t really take a running leap as bogged down as I was, but my friend was in danger, so even before I had properly thought it through, I was flying through the air by virtue of my power yanking my armor up and forward. I hurled one of my swords at one of the creature’s tentacles to distract it, and I brought the other down in a cleaving blow that cut straight through the tongue, removing its forked tips and the first portion of its main body in a gout of rank smelling green blood. I nearly lost my lunch when some of it spurted across my face and slapped my left gauntlet over my mouth and nose in the vain hope of warding off the smell. Distracted as I was, I completely missed the incoming tentacle until it was too late. I yelped as it slammed into my side, losing my grip on my sword and sending me flying away with enough force that I sent water spraying everywhere when I crashed down into the murky waters once again. My eyes immediately stung from the filth, and I hurried to clench them shut as I attempted to regain my footing.

After a second of disorientation from my abrupt reintroduction to the swamp water and my inability to see, I unconsciously used my power to tug myself up and onto my feet. The skirt of my armor was undoubtedly soggy and wet from the water, so I tugged off my right gauntlet and pawed ineffectually at my eyes while shouting, “Dungeonmaster! Help me find you!”

I could feel where Faultline was from all the metal in her equipment, and I could feel the sword I had flung earlier moving erratically in the air about a dozen feet away—it must have landed in the monster’s hide and gotten lodged there. Dungeonmaster didn’t have any metal on her, but over the noise of the resumed fight between the monster and Faultline, I began to hear birdsong.  _ There _ , I thought as I blindly jumped over to her vicinity. I slowed my landing to avoid splashing the water on her, and once I had touched down, I pushed up my helmet’s visor and blindly reached towards where I heard the bird warbling. “Please give me some of your cloak.” 

Cloth was pressed into my hand, and I hastily wiped my eyes clean before blinking them open. “Thanks,” I said with a sigh of relief before turning my attention back to the fight. I saw Faultline narrowly dodge first one tentacle swipe then another, and as the third lashed out, I realized the only place she could properly dodge would put her in reach of the last tentacle and she wouldn’t have time to dodge with the swamp water slowing her movement. I didn’t know if I could do anything in time, but I had to try. I used my power to reach out to the sword I had dropped when I was hit, which had sunk to the bottom of the swamp somewhat near where she was dodging. Luckily, Faultline had a trick up her sleeve. As she dodged the incoming blow and fell into the path of the next, she sunk her hand into the water at her side. The murk was illuminated red and blue, and she deftly sidestepped the fourth strike at a speed just shy of walking on firm land. The maneuver did not put her outside of that tentacle’s reach were it to sweep sideways from where it had impacted the surface of the water, but just as it had bought her time to dodge, it gave me enough time to pull my sword up from the depths and bisect the tentacle on its way back towards me. I yanked myself forward once more and caught my sword in midair before immediately throwing it at another tentacle. The blade only clipped the monster’s appendage, but that was apparently enough to prompt it to pull back.

In fact, it pulled back all of its tentacles and seemed to regard us for a moment, apparently wary of further damage to its limbs. I landed with a mild splash a couple yards from Faultline, and as I tugged my closest sword back to me, I asked, “You alright?”

“I’ll live,” she answered, short and to the point. “You two?”

“Probably have some wicked bruises on my right ribs, but other than that, I just got some of this shitty water in my eyes,” I replied. I nodded at the monster and asked, “Think it’ll fuck off?”

“No. Froghemoths are known for being fixated on food.” I blinked and looked at her askance, and I could practically hear the smirk in her voice when she said, “You’re playing with real world Dungeons and Dragons but don’t know the creatures? For shame,  _ Fighter _ .”

“C’mon, cut a girl some slack, you nerd,” I joked as I returned my gaze to the monster—the Froghemoth, apparently—to watch for any sudden moves. “I’m new to the game. Any particular weaknesses creepy frog things have that I should be aware of?”

“Electricity,” she immediately confirmed to my surprise. “I’ve had no good openings to use my taser.” She tugged the gun-like tool from within the skirt of her costume and tossed it to me. As I caught it in my left hand, she added, “Artificers can make guns. I trust you can accept equipment from another class for temporary use?”

The Froghemoth abruptly lashed out at us with the three tentacles that hadn’t been cut in half, and I jumped out of the way while she used her power on the water once more to make it quicker to dodge. “I’m pretty sure our Artificer’s shtick is pulling off bullshit nonsense while fighting, not making things,” I pointed out.

“Irrelevant,” she dismissed, some tension slipping into her voice as she danced around to avoid a probing tentacle while I narrowly ducked under another one and immediately jumped to avoid being struck by the last one. “Get close, stab your sword into its head, then hit the sword with the taser. Go!”

_ Oh shit, that  _ is _ a good plan _ , I thought as I spun around the tip of a tentacle that nearly smashed my helmet and jumped towards the Froghemoth’s main body. I thought I was in the clear but was promptly reminded that, though heavily damaged, the monster  _ did _ still have another tentacle and a tongue. The tentacle clipped my sword and sent it falling into the swamp while also throwing me into a spin that threw off my orientation enough I couldn’t adequately respond. Its tongue took advantage of that to wrap around me and yank me closer, which had the side benefit of killing the spin and therefore orienting me again. No longer confused and now moving towards where I wanted to go in the first place, I decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth and summoned the sword that had been embedded in its hide all this time to my hand. The moment it hit my gauntlet, I slashed at the tongue, and its grip on me slackened enough for me to slip free. Wasting no time, I threw the sword right back at it, this time aiming for the head. Despite being slower than the enemies we fought earlier, it still reacted quickly enough that it didn’t  _ quite _ hit its head dead on as I had intended, but jammed as it was into the creatures cheek area, I decided it would just have to be close enough and took aim with the taser.

I pulled the trigger, and the leads shot towards where the leather grip of the blade met the metal hilt. They connected and crackled, and the Froghemoth began to seize violently.

“Go for the head!” Faultline yelled as she drew her pistol and started pumping shots into the area below its eye stalks once more. “Now!”

I tossed the taser into the air to give myself time to clear the water and leaped towards the Froghemoth. The sword in the swamp flew to me midair as I shouted “Clear!” so she wouldn’t shoot me. Not that it would matter, since I would stop any bullet before it did real harm to me, but it was the principle of the matter. I felt and heard the taser splash into the water behind me just before I could land, and the flow electricity abruptly ceased. Thankfully the monster’s debilitated stupor didn’t end straight away, and I was able to safely land on the head. I took a swing at the eye stalks first to give us an advantage if my next attack didn’t fell it, then I plunged my blade to the hilt straight down into its head.

The Froghemoth moaned long and low, and for a few long moments I thought it was still going to keep fighting, but eventually it collapsed into the swamp, sending waves violently sweeping through the murky waters. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful it was over, before turning my attention up to Monk. Up until that moment, I hadn’t really thought through  _ how _ to handle things once we got here, but now that it was done…

Faultline sloshed her way over with Dungeonmaster’s hand clasped in hers. “Trouble, Fighter?”

“I was so worried about getting here that I didn’t really think about how we’d keep Monk safe once we rescued them,” I admitted as I used my power to retrieve my bow. Somewhere between a third and half of my arrows had fallen out of my quiver during my brief dunks in the water earlier, but it was still better to have the bow and not need it than the alternative. “This asshat didn’t pay Dungeonmaster any mind, but those rotting fucks from earlier tried to attack her. I dunno how to keep them safe while I’m focused on protecting Dungeonmaster.”

I then tilted my head when I felt somebody covered in a layer of metal peel away from the PRT officers I had been tracking since earlier and begin making their way to us. “We’re about to have company,” I added. “They were with the PRT peeps we nearly ran into earlier. Wearing a suit of armor.”

Faultline hummed. “Well that makes things both easier and more difficult.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

“We can remit this ‘Monk’ to their care, but we’ll have to escape Chevalier first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ain't this a return to form, doing the Friday update on "Friday"? 
> 
> Sorry for the minor delay, all. Roughly two thirds of this was written today because this week has been such a mixed bag. @RoiledJelly tried to say y'all would understand if I took the week off, but I said nay! After all, it's not like anything stressful has been happening this week, right? ... ... ... Right?? But jokes and elections stress aside, this week has personally been loaded with lots and lots of stress with a few awesome bits sprinkled in just to get a girl's hopes up, so I'm gonna go to sleep now, okay?
> 
> Oh, but before I go! One of those awesome bits I mentioned was trans legislators being elected (and in some cases re-elected) to our nation's legislature and to some of the state legislatures. Among them was Sarah McBride, who's our first trans senator in the US Senate! How great is that?!


	26. Bell 3.9

I didn’t know which I was more impressed with when Chevalier finally rounded a tree and came within eyesight: His black armor with its gold trimming or the truly _massive_ sword sheathed on his back that made my greatswords look like children’s toys in comparison. I would have been caught off guard by the weapon’s disproportionately light weight, but Faultline had given us the lowdown on the Philadelphia Protectorate before we arrived in the city as preparation for the job we would be running later this week.

Thinking about that made my head feel strange, and I nearly lost my footing before gripping my armor and holding it—and consequently myself—upright. _I don’t understand,_ I thought to myself as my memories of the briefing washed over me. _Why was I going to use those ball bearings to— and my costume, I don’t—_

“Please hold, Chevalier,” Faultline called out as he approached, and I forced myself to focus on the present. “We’ve no quarrel with you today.”

“Faultline,” the armored cape responded, clearly recognizing her. Another cape came into view, and I immediately identified her as Sakura by her blue ninja attire with the dancing sakura petal trim and her pink domino mask. “My team had reported sighting Newter and Gregor the Snail, and with you here, I have to presume the rest of your crew is as well. I take it all this,” he gestured at the area at large, “is courtesy of Labyrinth?”

 _There’s that name again. “_ Why does everyone keep calling Dungeonmaster that?” I whispered to Faultline in confusion.

His helmet turned my way, and I tensed and gripped my swords, which I had yet to sheath. Sakura noticed and brought her fists up, then shards of pearlescent pink energy shards began to emerge from her hands and fitfully dance around them. Chevalier held out his arm in front of her in silent warning, and though she dropped out of her ready stance, the petals of energy remained.

“Identify yourself,” Chevalier ordered, his tone cool and measured.

“I’m—”

“One of mine,” Faultline cut me off, mirroring Chevalier by holding her arm in front of me. “She and Labyrinth were taken hostage by the Master behind the Eight, just as Stardust was.”

I winced at the reminder. It still didn’t feel real, but at the same time it… explained some things.

_“And Labyrinth? Bad day?”_

_Is Elle really supposed to be Labyrinth? Was I mastered to think of her as Dungeonmaster?_

_“We’ll address this later, Meteor. For now, we need to get you two out of here.”_

_And I’m… Meteor?_

I was starting to get a bad headache, and I direly wished I could rub my temples. _Who would do this? Who even_ is _the Master?_

“Then you know why we’re here,” Chevalier grimly replied, the timbre of his voice carrying a metal edge from his face being completely obscured by his visor.

“It wasn’t hard to piece together the trend, once I had cause to start looking. I had _hoped_ you wouldn’t realize Menagerie was taken by the Eight or that they would attack UPenn, but I can’t say I’m surprised you’re here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for your compliments,” he rejoined. “I don’t know what strategy you’re aiming for by having Labyrinth create a swamp out of the university’s library, but I do not appreciate the property damage. Tell her to stop.”

“No way!” I blurted. “The adventure’s not done!”

“The adventure?” Sakura sneered, speaking up for the first time. “You realize you’re talking about D&D shit when lives are at stake, right?”

“Thank you, Fighter,” Faultline said to me, ignoring Sakura’s remarks. “I was just about to explain the rules to Chevalier.”

Sakura opened her mouth to retort, but Chevalier held up his hand again and spoke up instead. “The ‘rules’? I will not appreciate it if you are wasting our time, Faultline.”

“Far from it,” she began to reply before more of the rotting creatures we had fought earlier before the Froghemoth began to pour out of the undergrowth from all around us. I gripped my swords and snarled as I spun around and moved to defend Dungeonmaster, and behind me I heard Faultline hurriedly explain, “We have to kill enough of the monsters, and eventually Labyrinth will be able to stop.”

Several bangs echoed through the area as she shot at the creatures, and though I heard other enemies near the heroes screaming in pain, I couldn’t spare the attention to check who had done what. Two of the creatures approached us, and I carefully swiped at them to hold them at bay with my superior range, but I couldn’t press the attack without leaving Dungeonmaster exposed.

“Stop bullshitting us and call your people off!” Sakura yelled, and I heard one of the creatures cry out in agony near her.

“If you don’t believe me, then believe the evidence, Faultline retorted, grunting with effort as I felt her withdraw her baton and take a swing, likely at an enemy that had managed to get in close. “If I could have Labyrinth stop, then why would these rot trolls be attacking us as well? Why would Gregor and Newter be attacking more where they are?” Another pause and grunt, this time accompanied by a dull, wet thwack. “Go ahead and ask your people to confirm—I’m not lying to you.”

One of the rot trolls, as Faultline had called them, overextended its reach, and I parried with one blade before punishing the failure with the other by chopping off its hand. The creature roared and paused to clutch its stump to its chest, blocking the other troll from advancing and giving me the opening I needed. With a hasty tug of my power, I horizontally cleaved straight through the already injured troll and managed to clip the one behind it in the process. The bisected troll froze, its eyes wide with shock, and I dropped one of my swords in favor of slamming it backwards with an open palm. The torso of the—hopefully—dead troll crashed into its comrade, throwing it off balance just long enough for me to thrust forward with my remaining sword and run it through. More were already bearing down on us, but a tremendous _boom_ tore through the area near Chevalier, and the cannonball I felt rocketing towards us burst through a group of three, injuring each to varying degrees. I was on them in an instant, cutting the throat of the one that seemed most likely to get back up before doing the same to the other two.

With no more directly near Dungeonmaster, Faultline, and myself, I promptly sheathed my sword and grabbed my bow as an arrow flew to my hand. I nocked and shot it at one that had been almost on Sakura’s back, then I fired another shot at the last one in sight, which had been preparing to jump down on the heroes’ position from above. It fell from the tree when my arrow plunged into its eye and nearly landed on Sakura, who whirled to face me with a dirty expression on her face and petals dancing around her fists.

“Stop!” Faultline called out, spreading her arms wide with her pistol pointing up into the air and held loosely. “I told you, we aren’t interested in fighting you today.”

“You really expect us to believe the ‘I was mastered’ excuse?” Sakura spit out. “Even if it was true, we’d have no proof that _you_ aren’t mastered right now!”

“Again, I don’t need you to believe me. I just need you to look at the facts you and your team can verify. Right now my team is engaged with more of these, and Newter is keeping the Master unconscious with constant skin to skin contact.”

“That could be anybody! Some hapless library patron!”

“And you, Chevalier?” Faultline asked. “Tell me honestly Reconnoiter hasn’t had eyes on this situation from the beginning and can attest to the veracity of my claims.”

“He doesn’t have to—” 

“He reported this alleged Master went down when shot with a water gun used by an non-costumed individual in a mask,” the armored hero, who had until now been silent, interjected. “Care to explain?”

“Water laced with Newter’s spit. We have safeguards in place to prevent being mastered, but we didn’t want to take any risks.”

He grunted and slowly sheathed his sword. “You’re asserting we have to fight Labyrinth’s projections in order to get her to stop?”

“Yes. She’s been mastered to serve as the group’s _Dungeonmaster_ and cannot dispel the swamp or the creatures in it until the rules the Master laid down are followed exactly. Namely, after enough creatures are killed a ‘witch’ will appear. The witch’s defeat is the objective.”

“And you know this because…?”

She turned to me, and I hesitantly confirmed, “I t-told her. Octavia told us we had to do.”

“The Master,” Faultline clarified. I clenched my teeth as my head throbbed, and again I was forced to keep myself upright through my power.

“Boss, you can’t believe this,” Sakura implored when Chevalier said nothing for several moments. “They’re criminals!”

“Not criminals,” Chevalier responded as his posture minutely relaxed. “Mercenaries.”

“That doesn’t—!”

“It means enough,” he cut her off. “Faultline and her crew have never been known to do jobs they weren’t paid to do, and I cannot fathom why someone would pay her to engage in such a charade, if it were such.” He started moving towards us. “I’m choosing to extend you a measure of trust here, Faultline. We help you satisfy these ‘rules.’ You let us take care of our people, and we won’t stand in between you and yours. Deal?”

Faultline moved forward to meet him and held out her hand. “Deal,” she intoned as they shook.

* * *

We stayed in place for a while longer while Faultline explained the situation regarding Monk and Chevalier called for a team of PRT officers to come extract them. I felt restless and anxious the whole time, but fortunately that wasn’t very long. It seemed the heroes did in fact have Reconnoiter, their surveillance Tinker, here and monitoring the swamp for movement, which meant she could guide them along a monster-free path. That did mean I was left feeling _more_ anxious that I was being watched by the reclusive Tinker, but that was tempered by my ability to feel all of her drones scattered throughout the swamp.

“It seems the majority of the creatures are beginning to converge on the front entrance of the library,” Chevalier announced once the officers began to move on with the unconscious Monk in tow. “We should begin making our way there.”

“After _you_ ,” Sakura stressed, waving her hand in the general direction we would be heading.

I glared at her ineffectually—my helmet’s visor prevented anyone from seeing said glare—but took hold of Dungeonmaster’s hand and started off in that direction. Once we were a bit ahead of them, I whispered just loud enough for my friend to hear, “When we’re all done here, let’s go to the park and unwind—just you and me. Okay?” A bird flitted from one tree to the next in front of us, its warbling song loud and clear, and I squeezed her hand.

“It’s not much further,” Faultline declared as the sounds of fighting up ahead began to reach us.

“Yes, but an alligator the size of a bus just appeared and is making its way straight towards us,” Chevalier warned.

I glanced over my shoulder. “We could bring it with.”

“No,” Faultline disagreed as she raised her hand to her comms. “Everyone, we’re about to engage an enemy. Whichever group finishes first, rally on the other’s position, then we’ll sweep the swamp for stragglers.” She dropped her hand and glanced at the heroes. “What reinforcements do you have?”

Sakura crossed her arms disagreeably, but Chevalier answered, “Zoom and Myrddin are busy elsewhere in the swamp on search and rescue but will rendezvous with us once we’ve confirmed the area is free of bystanders.

“Myrddin?” I questioned, knowing the name but not able to picture them or remember their powers. Zoom, however, I recognized as a local cape with the power to shrink and grow himself as well as anything he touched. His power was definitely well suited to getting the library patrons out easily, since all he would need to do is shrink them down and carry them out himself.

“Ah, so the leader of the Chicago Protectorate made his way out to help recover Stardust then?” Faultline said, likely having spelled out who he was for my benefit.

“You yourself have stepped outside your comfort zone here to take care of your people,” Chevalier neutrally pointed out.

“I’m not questioning it. In fact, I applaud it. There are many who would not do the same.”

Whether Chevalier agreed with that assessment or not was left unknown because we were all abruptly occupied with the alligator Reconnoiter had warned us about. “Move!” the knight barked out as the beast, which had just come in sight, surged towards us. Its maw opened wide, revealing teeth the size of knives, and it cleaved through the murky waters at a surprisingly fast speed, leaving waves in its wake that roughly crashed into the trees and foliage of the swamp. Thankfully we had all moved out of the way by the time it passed through where we had been, with Faultline and Sakura jumping one way and Chevalier moving in the same direction I did with Dungeonmaster, who I had swiftly swept up in my arms.

The beast turned on a dime and lunged at Faultline and Sakura, and though Faultline narrowly dodged in time, Sakura moved just a hair too slowly. She screamed as its jaws clamped down on her leg, and just as it flicked its head back and opened its jaw to try and get a firmer grip on her, Faultline drew her pistol and shot the roof of its mouth. It whined and released its hold on Sakura, and as she scrambled back and away, its whine morphed into a snarl as it curled back and tensed to strike. The hero’s leg began to swirl with her petals, the swirling developing into a flurry that obscured her leg from view. I recognized she was regenerating to fix her injury but couldn’t pay her any further mind than that as Chevalier rushed forward to attack with his cannonblade. I set down Dungeonmaster as he tried to cut down towards the animal’s mouth and compound its injury, but the alligator twisted away in a narrow dodge. I drew my bow and an arrow, and Chevalier pressed his assault, swiftly redirecting the energy of his strike sideways and catching a chunk of the alligator’s flank despite its attempts to retreat.

“More incoming!” he called out as he swung the sword up into position to launch a cannonball at it, but he needn’t have bothered, since I noticed one trying to attack Faultline unawares from behind in the corner of my eye. I loosed the shot I had been intending for the one Chevalier was facing at the one behind Faultline instead, and like the first alligator, it tried to shuffle to the side, demonstrating agility that didn’t line up with its bulk and size. Not that it mattered too much, since I was able to course correct mid-flight while I drew and shot a second arrow. I directed the first at its eye, but the damned thing clamped its armored skin over it in time to defend the delicate organ. Not wanting my second arrow to be wasted, I pushed that one towards its teeth instead in the hope they wouldn’t prove quite as resilient as its scales. Whether they would have been or not ultimately didn’t matter, however, since it opened its mouth at the last second to release a low, growly hiss. The shaft plunged into its throat and cut off its hiss with a gurgle, and I turned my attention for the time being to the third one that was coming at us from the side—this time towards Dungeonmaster and myself.

I dropped my bow on the moss covered bog and drew my swords before throwing one in a spin at the alligator. It tried to dodge the spiraling blade, but I managed to take a small chunk out of the hide on its flank. Despite that it kept charging forward, and I readied the sword in my hand while drawing the thrown blade back to me. Petals of pink energy shot through it at speed a second before it got in range of a strike from me, and I took advantage of the distraction to slash down at its bottom jaw, which was the easiest part to reach now that the huge creature was upon me. That hide was _tough_ , and despite giving it my full strength, my sword got caught partway into the flesh of the jaw. I was forced to abandoned my weapon and jump back as it tried to take a bite out of me, and though Sakura showered it once again with a torrent of petals, it wasn’t dissuaded from its focus on me this time. On instinct, I grabbed the sword lodged in its mouth with my power and shoved it into elsewhere, and when it charged forward, the blade tore through it like tissue paper as its own strength was put to use against it. In the span of the second it took the creature to realize what was happening, half of its left flank born a horrendous gash running along its length. Blood didn’t just weep from the wound—it _gushed_. The alligator flailed in agony and nearly lost its footing in the blood soaked bog as it tried to scramble back and away, but the writing was already on the wall that it would soon be dead from the grievous wound.

 _I’ve never thought of using that for offense_ , was my first thought as I pulled my sword from elsewhere and yanked it back to my hand, and my second thought was, _Oh shit, Octavia’s gonna be pissed if she finds out I did that!_

 _Maybe… I shouldn’t tell her?_ I groaned the moment I thought that and fell to my knees, dropping my sword and clutching at my helmet as my head throbbed. _What the fuuuck… Owww_ …

I heard Faultline yell something at me, but she sounded so distant, and I couldn’t focus…

I grunted as something slammed into me and for an addled second I swore one of the alligators had bodily slammed into me, but then I heard a familiar voice say from next to me, “Geez, that really you in there, Meteor? You okay?”

The name still felt awkward and like it didn’t fit, but my familiarity had been rekindled enough that I answered, “Hey Newts. Kinda?”

“Kinda? The fuck, girl? Also, you _tryin’_ to be croc food?”

 _That_ voice was unfamiliar, and when I looked up, I was left just as confused when I saw a _very_ large man—perhaps twelve feet tall—with nearly charcoal skin and a scrawny body, at least in relation to his gigantic proportions, wrestling with yet another alligator. Once I properly focused on their costume, however, I realized it was Shade impersonating someone, and likely Zoom based on her current size. Nobody else but Shade would ever be caught dead in the costume she had chosen: urban camouflage spandex unitard and half-black, half-white domino mask. I knew the unitard, which was made with a special fabric that would expanded many sizes without breaking, was a practical choice, but her coloring was just _blegh_.

“Fighter, you know these clowns?” Paladin called out from behind me, his light already beginning to quickly illuminate the gloom of some of the swamp while casting the rest in shadow.

Newter yelped and rushed away, and the soft ground he had been on just a moment prior sizzled as one of Paladin’s streams slammed into it. I jerked away myself and used my power to quickly drag myself to my feet. I turned to glare in Paladin’s direction and shouted, “What are you doing?! Stop! He’s my friend!”

“Your _friend_ , huh?” he growled. “These people attacked Octavia and Bard!”

“What?” I breathed out in shock. I twisted around and tried to find where Newter had gotten to, and when I couldn’t find him, I had to presume he had vanished into the shadows. “Newter, why did you do that?! Octavia is a friend!”

“Like hell she is!”

“Shade, we talked about this,” Faultline rebuked my friend as she rushed over to my side. “Fighter, it’s okay. Remember, you’ve been mastered. We’re only here to help.”

“B-But why did he attack _Octavia_? S-She’s a victim too! She’s got to be! I know she’s flighty, but she would never harm anyone on purpose!”

“Please focus on Dungeonmaster’s projections for now,” she implored, putting her hands on my shoulders. “I promise you, we’ll sort this all out once this is over, okay?”

I wanted to, I really did, but all around me my friends were fighting each other. Paladin was still furiously sweeping his light around in his search for Newter and dodging whenever a shot of water burst out of the darkness towards him. The alligator Shade was wrestling twisted and morphed into a bird, revealing she was actually fighting Druid, who then dodged her lunge before morphing back into the monstrous alligator and trying to take a bite out of her leg. A vaguely woman shaped humanoid made of water who was must have been Sorcerer rushed into the area, and she narrowly dodged being struck by slime that was followed by Gregor cautiously entering the area a moment later.

“Stop it!” I wailed, yanking off my helmet and clutching at my head, which was now pulsing in agony. “Stop _fighting each other_!”

“Meteor!” another familiar voice said as its owner rushed up. In disbelief I forced my eyes open, but my eyes agreed: Masuyo was standing in front of me with a scarf wrapped around her lower face. “It’s okay! We’re _not_ attacking them, I promise! We’re trying to stop them from attacking _us_.”

“You’re the one who shot her.” My eyes darted in surprise to Chevalier, who had moved over to us, and when I looked back to Masuyo, I realized she had a water gun holstered under her arm pit and beneath her jacket.

“You shot Octavia.”

“I did,” she warily answered. “She was hurting you, Meteor.”

She had a necklace with a metal chain around her neck, and for a brief moment, I felt the urge to strangle her with it. My head _throbbed_ , and a whine reached my ears that I only belated realized was coming from me. “ _How_?”

“Octavia ì̶̢̢̨̗͖̞̖͔̟͓̪̭͜ͅs̶̢̯̤̺̩͕̜̻̺̣̲͉̐͒̈́͋̈́͒̈́̃̿̃̀̐̇͋́͘̕ ̷̢̨̧̮̱̗̩͋̒̆͒̐̈̽̿́͜t̷̢̡̛̹͈͍̝̰̞̜̖͔͓̙̝̳̔̂͑̑̓̈́͗̃͛̄̎̕͘͘͘͝h̴̛̛̜̼͍̻̠̗̬̻̏̓̉̇̾͋͗̀͗́͗̊͗̾̿̉̚͝e̷̡̨̛̬̱̳̱͙̟̞̱̤̯͉̔̓̈̂̈́̿̈̄́͆̃̋̓͛̓̕͝ͅ ̵̢̡͍͕͕̺͖͇̝̟̜̲̰̬̰͖̥͚̌̃͛́̔͌͛̽͂̅̏̾͛̾̎̅̚͝M̵̧͔̜̮̭̫̙̂̈́̀͝ͅa̸̼̿̆s̴̢̧̠̜̰͈̋ͅͅţ̴̨̛͇̤̞̼̘͖̰̫̣̯̥͚͆̊͌̂͋̒͜e̵͕͍̫̣͕̿͛́̌̂̈́̀̇̍͑͛̓͐͒̚͠͠͝͝ͅr̵̗̜͓̩͍͙͍͆̍̎̆̓̎̈́́̉̑̐͋̃͠͠͝.”

I groaned in pain, but for some reason, this time I didn’t shy away from it. I wanted— _needed_ —to understand. “Say that again,” I whispered.

Masuyo glanced over her shoulder at Faultline, who had brought Dungeon—Labyrinth?— _Elle_ over. She returned the nod as the fighting continued around us. Sakura had joined the fray along with a dark skinned man in a bodysuit of contrasting red and blue halves separated by a curving white line—the real Zoom—and a man in a brown cloak with a staff that was whipping around in the air who must be Myrddin.

“Octavia is t̸̫̖͍̱͚̳̦͒͋̉́̑̍̚̕̕͝ḣ̵̥͉̟̹̖͎̜̣̜͔̪̈̀͗̋͝ę̴̢̭̮̲͈͙͈̱͉̞͓͌̆͐̄͊̋͛̅̐̓̿͝ ̴͓̮͓̳̟͚͆̃̑M̸͓͓̯̬̖̱̈̉̃a̴̡͈̞̭̾͊̐̅̌ͅs̸̢̻̮̯͓̫͚̰̰̲̗̻͒͠t̵̨̄̒e̵̢̡̡̛̳̩͇̗̰̞̪͈͍̟̔̐̅͛̏͒r̷̡͓̬̞͔̼̭͕̫̥̝̮̓̐̔͋̕͠.”

“Again,” I begged, stronger this time.

“Octavia is the M̶̧̠̣̩̟̜͂ä̷͔͖́͒͋͂̒̕s̴̞͎̾͗̒̈t̶͎͉̟̲̬͊̾̆̕ͅė̴͓̲̹̤̈͌̓̄r̶̫̜̰̮͓̓̒͝.”

I grabbed hold of Masuyo’s arms, needing to ground myself. “Again!” I demanded, staring straight into her eyes past the domino mask Faultline had given me.

“Octavia is the Master,” she solemnly answered.

Chevalier suddenly looked away, his body language portraying alarm. “My people outside are reporting fixtures in the area are starting to tear themselves apart. We may have incoming.”

“No,” Faultline denied. She stepped forward and placed her hand over Masuyo’s on my shoulder. “I need you to stop, Meteor.”

“She used me?” I softly asked, a simmering heat in my words.

“Meteor,” Masuyo said, gently shaking my shoulders. “Listen to Faultline.”

Neither of them had denied my question. The anger in me _flared_ , and I only just barely managed to let go of the metal in the area. I still felt it, the compulsion to finish the swamp scenario, and I didn’t think I could deny it. But then again, I did want to hit something. _Hard_. “Labyrinth.” The name still felt foreign on my tongue, but I was _not_ going to let Octavia control me. Not any more. “Let’s finish this.”

Loud cackling filled the air, and everyone stilled as a woman’s voice boomed through the air. “You think you can come into _my_ home, kill _my_ pretties, and escape?! Fools! _Death comes for you_!”

A black mist seeped up out of the center of the clearing and began to coalesce into two legs as black as midnight and as thick as my torso, their hooved feet alighting on the soggy ground of the mire. My swords snapped through the air to my hands, causing Masuyo to step back in surprise, and I strode towards the emerging final boss of Octavia’s accursed game. I readied my blades to cut through the torso of the creature once it formed… but it kept growing. Where I expected the torso to appear, the legs continued to grow before twisting into digitigrade knees at a height just above where my head was then continuing _even higher_. I took a step backwards and craned my neck to stare as the formation quickened, and a torso with obvious muscles finally began to take shape some fifteen feet up before growing arms from its top that ended in hands with wicked claws nearly as long as my arm.

“Fuck me,” I muttered as I took more steps backward, nearly crashing into Masuyo as a long, eerie head as long as I was tall emerged. The jagged horns and large insect-like eyes made my skin crawl, and I stumbled back when its gaping chasm of a mouth opened wide and it screeched, causing the black mist bleeding out of its flesh to writhe.

“You just had to try and be cool, didn’t you?” Masuyo fearfully whispered as she goggled at it.

I couldn’t quite pull my gaze away from the massive creature, but I did manage to tilt my head to the side and ask, “ _Did_ I look cool?”

“Not even.”

The nightmare creature lashed out and smashed me with its cloven foot, and I screamed as I slammed into a tree.

_Yep, fuck me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey there, Shade, Masuyo, Gregor, and Newter! Ain't seen y'all in a hot minute, huh? Welcome back to the party—you're just in time for the Nightwalker haha
> 
> In personal news, the spinal stimulator trial my partner was supposed to have started this Tuesday got pushed back two weeks because the surgical center staff tried to get an IV in them six times without success (they have shitty veins due to their illness). We have to get a picc line (look it up!) installed between then and now, but thankfully my partner's primary care doctor was able to find a vascular doctor in the area who could do it at their office instead of us needing to got to the ER to have it done (how it's usually done). So at least it's not a complete wash.


	27. Bell 3.10

It was only by the grace of my armor that I wasn’t plunged into unconsciousness at best and a bleeding, broken corpse at worst. Not that it had protected me, per se. Plate armor afforded great protection against slashing or stabbing attacks like the claw swipes the rot trolls had favored, but it didn’t do _shit_ against being smashed. The impact force would just go right through, or that’s what the blacksmith had said, when Octavia had asked him— _Compelled_ , I forcefully reminded myself. _She mastered and compelled him_ —to explain the basics of plate armor. Someone comes at you with a sword? You’re gonna be okay, unless you let them stab you in the cracks between the armor plates, which was why I had a chainmail shirt on under all of this.

But I digress. I had survived being kicked straight into a tree some twenty-five yards away from the living nightmare that Dungeo— _Labyrinth’s_ power had dreamt into reality thanks to my armor giving me a convenient means of slowing my flight down to the point my bones didn’t shatter into tiny pieces on impact. So, you know. At least there was that.

“Meteor!” Masuyo cried out as she rushed over and slid to a stop next to me.

The action hadn’t stopped to give me time to recover. I was still dazed to the point of being unable to act as the nightmare creature languidly turned and pointed at Sakura. The hero had just long enough to start to marshal her petals before a bubble of liquid formed just above her head and promptly fell through the air, splashing all over her. She immediately began to scream and fell to the ground, flailing around as Zoom and Chevalier, the people closest to her rushed to her aid. After a few seconds of their worried shouts, her body literally burst apart into petals of her energy that began to swirl violently enough the heroes had to hastily put distance between them and what remained of her.

“It can kill at a distance!” Chevalier barked in warning, his tone dark. “Myrddin!”

The robed man in the air started to gesture with his staff at Labyrinth, and a wall that seemed to be made out of literal diamond sprung up between them, blocking his line of sight. When nothing happened to her, I realized he must have needed that. Faultline wasn’t blocked by the wall, however, and she dropped down into a kneeling crouched position as she swiftly grabbed her large water rifle from her back and swung it around to take aim. Labyrinth must have noticed, as the wall immediately surged in growth, circling around her in a protective barrier. I was left torn. On the one hand, I knew we had gone into territory no cape encounter should the moment Labyrinth’s construct had killed Sakura—though privately I didn’t think she was _dead_ , since her petals were still present—and that Faultline shooting her with Newter’s spit was the best way to end this debacle before it could really begin. On the other hand, I still felt the urge to kill the monster. I knew _why_ I felt it, but that didn’t seem to matter that much as I staggered to my feet despite Masuyo pleading that I stay down.

Not to be forgotten, the nightmare Labyrinth had created began to stalk toward Shade and Druid. I vaguely recalled he had another name, but my brain refused to cooperate with me on remembering _what_ it was. The two of them scrambled away before it could lash out, and thankfully, it didn’t repeat whatever it had done to Sakura.

“Banish the wall!” Chevalier roared as he shot a cannonball at the nightmare.

“My magic’s not working!” Myrddin yelled back, dodging behind a tree as the creature turned towards him.

“His ‘magic’?” I muttered as I summoned my dropped swords to my hand. “Please tell me I’m just hearing things after my close encounter of the tree kind.”

“Nope, I heard him too,” Masuyo replied with a grimace, seeming to have begrudgingly accepted I wasn’t going to sit this one out. “How’re you feeling? Are you still, um…”

“Still mastered,” I acknowledged, my tone making it clear exactly what I thought of that. “I’ve got the urge to kill it.”

Over where the fight was still going on, the creature took a swing at Stardust—her name I could recall, since Faultline had just used it earlier. The water woman tanked the blow and actually flowed around it, reforming on the other side of its arm. I felt it when her body changed from water to metal and her hand reshaped itself into a blade, though as it had with Miss Militia’s gun at the hospital, her body felt slippery if I tried to focus on it. She slashed at the creature’s leg, but the attack seemed to do nothing, and for her troubles she got a splash of that liquid, which at this point I was confident was acid.

“Damn, you—hang on one sec. Repeat that, Faultline?” Masuyo looked to me and nodded. “Absolutely, one second.”

She fished around in her pockets for a moment then held out her hand. In her palm were two earbuds that were similar enough in appearance to the ones I had used in Providence that I could hazard a guess what they were for. I planted my swords in the ground and briefly glanced back at the fight just long enough to see Stardust had taken on a form similar to yet different from her watery form. Had she adopted a form based on the acid?

I shoved the buds in my ears and heard, “Meteor, are you on the line?”

“Yeah, I’m on.”

“Are you still mastered?” my boss asked, not beating around the bush like Masuyo had.

“Yup,” I confirmed in a strained voice. “I’ve got a sword with that nightmare’s name on it, and nothing’s gonna stand in the way of me introducing it to the fucker’s head.”

“Focus on defense, not offense. This projection is based on a Nightwalker,” she explained as she broke the base of a tree with her power, which Zoom, who was presently gargantuan in size, grabbed and smashed the creature over the head with. “Count yourself fortunate that Labyrinth’s power can’t replicate powers because this would be much worse otherwise. As it stands, she seems to be making acid to replicate its necrotic damage, and it seems she’s still given it its normal resistances. That means most physical attacks aren’t going to affect it.”

“Yeah, this fucker is tough,” Shade confirmed, her voice changing partway through to Stardust’s as she took on the cape’s form long enough to dodge a blow from the Nightwalker by planting her foot in water and turning into water herself, flowing around the attack like Stardust had. She slipped into Zoom’s form next and promptly began to grow larger. “Can we just hit Labs with some of Newt’s spit and haul ass before the heroes get all hero-y?”

“No!” I blurted before clapping my hands to my mouth and growling in frustration. “I mean, can’t we just kill it?”

Druid tried to grab a bite of one of the Nightwalker’s legs while Shade attempted to kick the other one out from under it, but they both got doused with acid. Gregor splashed Shade with something that reduced her scream to a whimper of pain instead, and Paladin rushed to Druid’s side to heal him with his light. Seeing that, Shade twisted into a copy of the tanned man and started dousing herself with light.

“Every second that thing’s alive is another opportunity for one of us to get seriously injured or worse,” Faultline grimly countered. “I can break the diamond shell around Labyrinth, but she’ll doubtlessly try to stop me. Meteor, join Shade and Gregor with trying to keep the Nightwalker contained. Newter and M, watch my back as I break the shell. Go.”

I recognized the order for what it was but couldn’t bring myself to move straight away. The compulsion to let the game end naturally meant there was a part of me that felt the urge to try and stop Faultline from getting to Labyrinth, since they would be knocking her out as soon as they broke through. But I was also compelled to be Fighter and kill the Nightwalker. The two urges warred in me, and I winced and swayed, only managing to stay upright by grabbing my armor with my power. Masuyo had been all set to rush off to join Faultline, but she stilled at the whine of pain that slipped out of me. I waved her away, and when she didn’t move, I added, “I’ll be fine in a moment. Help Faultline.”

She slowly nodded then rushed off, and I turned my attention back to the fight. The Nightwalker was currently being attacked one or two at a time by Shade, Gregor, Stardust, Druid, Paladin, and the heroes. Among the latter, surprisingly, was Sakura, whose costume was practically non-existent and whose exposed body showed absolutely no signs having previously been bathed in enough acid to kill her. I knew she could heal her injuries with her power, but this was something beyond that, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

 _Not that I have time to ponder that right now_ , I thought to myself as my swords snapped to my hand and I did my best to focus on the Nightwalker and _only_ the Nightwalker as I rushed forward. Sakura’s unexplained revival did remind me of one key fact as I closed the distance to the fight: Getting close meant getting doused in acid. That meant I needed to fight smarter, not harder. Once I was closer, I flung first one sword then the other at the monster and accelerated their flights and spin. The blades were spinning so fast they were producing serious wind by the time they struck, but just as Faultline had warned, they didn’t seem to do much. Not that they didn’t do _anything_ —twin bloody lines were left on its flank—but the damage done simply did not correspond to the attack, and it wasn’t just me. There were at most a few teeth marks on its leg from where Druid had bit it earlier, and I watched as Myrddin drew a dark sigil in the air that drew in all the mud, grass, and water from an area at the edge of the clearing before launching a huge projectile at the Nightwalker, which made it stumble once struck but otherwise left the monster only looking a little battered.

A brief lull followed where nobody was rushing in, and Paladin took advantage of it to practically flood the monster’s vicinity with his light. I shielded my eyes and turned away from the blinding light, and the light suddenly vanished a moment later, replaced with screaming. I tried to blink the spots from my eyes as quickly as I could, but I didn’t need to see to feel what was happening to Paladin’s armor. I split apart the melting armor and curled the edges of the split back to try and prevent any excess acid from getting through to him as I tossed the ruined material away. He might very well be my enemy depending on how culpable he was in Octavia’s madness, but until I could confirm otherwise, it was all too possible that he was just as much a victim as me. I rushed over to him, and when I saw his flesh was still sizzling, I dropped my swords, grabbed him, and raced over to Gregor.

“Gregor!” I yelled as we neared, and he didn’t hesitate to fling something at us. The smell of his excretion was noxious, and I nearly lost my lunch, but Paladin’s flesh stopped smoking. “He’s a healer,” I told my teammate, fighting down the nausea. “Watch his back!”

I didn’t wait for a response as I rushed back towards the fray as the Nightwalker hit Zoom away with enough force he bounced several times before coming to a stop. There was nothing I could do for him, at least not directly, so while Shade and Stardust held its attention and Sakura rained hell on all its exposed areas, I threw my swords again, trying to compound the damage I gave it earlier. Unfortunately, we were all still having practically no effect, and I was reminded uncomfortably of the Endbringer footage the school had shown us back in middle school as a part of a lecture about safety during an attack. This wasn’t on the same level of destruction, thank god, but it was still unnerving to realize that Labyrinth, my sweet Elle who loved to bring the books we read to life, could do all of this with her power too.

The Nightwalker turned to face Labyrinth’s direction just as I heard the sound of Faultline’s power surging, and before I could properly think through what I was doing, I was moving to intercept it as it rushed towards the diamond shell.

 _I’m fighting the Nightwalker. I’m fighting the Nightwalker_ , I chanted to keep myself from paying attention to what was happening behind me and instead focus on the monster bearing down on me. But what could I do? My swords had almost no effect, and my arrows would be just as ineffective. I knew I had more options as Meteor, but for at least this fight, I _couldn’t_ take advantage of them, at least not intentionally. No answer came, and with it almost upon me, it reared back its arm to strike me aside. I braced for impact as it swung down, desperately wishing I could push my armor… into… elsewhere?

_What the fuck?_

I felt my pauldron shift into elsewhere just before the blow struck it, and the recoil of the Nightwalker smashing an immovable object threw it off course and crashing to the ground while I only felt the air be displaced. The feeling of the atmosphere around us shifted in some way I couldn’t describe, and I heard Faultline’s voice over the comms announce, “Labyrinth is unconscious, and we have her. Gregor, Shade, grab Meteor and make for extraction point alpha. You know what to do.”

I felt my armor leave elsewhere, and my head snapped up as Gregor and Shade rushed towards me, the latter of whom currently looked like me. _Oh, that makes sense_ , I thought as they came to a stop at my side. “Thanks, Shade.”

“‘Twas my honor, fair maiden!” she pompously declared, striking a silly pose. “Meteor, lady knight of justice, was all too happy to defend you from that foul creature’s assault!”

“Oh god, stop doing that while you’re me, you asshat!”

“But that’s what makes it fun!” she joked, though she did release the transformation, letting herself be engulfed in shadows and reemerge as herself, a wicked grin on her face.

“Meteor,” Gregor rumbled, pulling my attention from my bickering with my doppelgänger. “Are you free to leave now?”

The question brought me up short. Octavia hadn’t been very exact with describing the win condition, since presumably she would have been conscious and present to declare for herself whether or not we were done. As it stood, she had only ever said the goal was to ‘defeat’ the evil witch of the swamp, whatever that meant. The swamp had not begun to vanish, nor had the Nightwalker been killed, although it was true the latter had stopped moving. But then, that wasn’t how Labyrinth’s power worked. It took time for the environments she had twisted to unravel, and while I had never seen her be struck unconscious while her power was fueling a pseudo-living creature, it seemed plausible enough that her projections would lose their semblance of life when she was no longer in a position to control them.

Looked at from a certain angle though… We never did see the witch, and Labyrinth hadn’t spoken while she was ‘Dungeonmaster.’ _Close enough._ “The witch has been stopped,” I replied, saying the words as much for his benefit as for my own. I reached out to the surroundings, and I relished in the feel of all the metal. “So yeah, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

“Leaving so soon?”

Chevalier was advancing towards us, and though his sword was sheathed on his back, I had seen firsthand the ease with which he had wielded that monstrous weapon and knew he could draw it in a flash. “We have no quarrel with you,” Gregor replied as the three of us warily turned to face him. My friend kept his arms held at his sides but tensed and ready to move. “You should tend to your wounds and round up the remainder of the Eight.”

“Straight to the point,” the knight-themed cape retorted. Behind him, I watched as Zoom tossed a foam grenade at Paladin, who seemed to still be unconscious after being hit by acid earlier, then shrunk down the foamed man and stuffed him in a pouch on his belt. Off to the side, Myrddin was talking to a cautious Stardust, and Sakura was standing guard over a battered Druid. “I can get behind that. But see, we have a problem on our hands. Some of the Eight are currently not present or accounted for. By my count, two are missing: The one calling himself Bard, and most importantly, _the Master_ controlling the group—Octavia.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up at that. _That bitch was still_ loose _? I thought they had Reconnoiter watching everything? For that matter, I thought Newter touched her directly? She should be out for ages!_

“Disengage,” I heard Faultline say over the comms. “Get to the extraction point ASAP.”

I had no idea what was going on, but there was no time for my teammates to catch me up. They bolted, and I quickly raced after them. Behind us Chevalier started to draw his sword, and I shoved it into elsewhere, hoping to slow him down. The moment I did so, however, it _split_ into three swords of the same size but vastly different weights that all fell to the ground. I was so caught off guard that I tripped and would have smashed my face in the ground if I hadn’t caught myself by my armor.

I twisted around in the air, no longer feeling the compulsion to limit myself, and I stared in surprise at Chevalier, who looked to the three swords with matching shock before turning his attention back to me. “Myrddin!”

The other cape turned his attention our way, and I shoved aside my confusion in favor of bolting. I could feel Myrddin’s metal mask move in hot pursuit, and the three closest of Reconnoiter’s drones were moving to get close while several others moved to mark the path Gregor and Shade were taking. I reached out to the drones and crushed them, then—

Suddenly I was floating in nothingness. I twisted around, trying to find something—anything—but I couldn’t even feel any metal in my range besides what was directly on my person. I was starting to panic—

I grunted as I fell to the ground of the swamp. Disoriented, I looked up and saw for just a second that Shade was impersonating Myrddin, a look of intense concentration on her face, only for a cannonball to slam into her legs and send her spinning violently to the ground with a pained scream. A boom cut through the noise, and Myrddin—the real one this time—appeared out of nowhere, looking unsteady on his feet. Remembering how Labyrinth had broken his line of sight earlier to prevent him from getting to her, I immediately seized control of his metal mask and, careful to not pull it off, I spread out the material until it was just a metal sheet with no eye holes to see through. Blind but apparently not deterred, he drew a new sigil that glowed brightly in contrast to the one he had used earlier against the Nightwalker, and the three of us were blown back by some invisible force. I caught myself by my armor, and though Gregor slammed into a tree, his unique biology meant he grunted on impact but otherwise didn’t seem perturbed. Shade’s on-going wail of pain, however, kicked up a couple of octaves as she tumbled across the ground with her legs bending in ways they shouldn’t. I winced in sympathy but forced myself to focus on solving the immediate problem. I didn’t have a lot of metal in my immediate vicinity, but I did have the shattered remains of Reconnoiter’s drones, and I hurriedly pulled them around Myrddin’s arms and torso in as tight of a ring as I dared, not wanting to cut off his circulation. He started to tilt his staff up towards the ring, but I shoved it into elsewhere.

Gregor rushed over to check on Shade, and I broke more drones and began pulling their parts over to us so I could make a stretcher. Zoom was rushing over along with Chevalier and his reforged sword, the two apparently having left Sakura to supervise Stardust and Druid. Myrddin had by then realized he couldn’t affect the ring, and he remarked, “We were willing to extend you and your crew the benefit of the doubt, but sabotaging Reconnoiter’s drones in order to secret away the woman you’re asserting is the Master necessitates action. We cannot let someone that dangerous go free!”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but we didn’t have time to debate who did what. “Keep him still,” I whispered to Gregor as I reached out to my helmet, which was still on the ground back where the fight with the Nightwalker had been. Gregor tossed a glob of sticky slime at Myrddin, and I released the ring around him from elsewhere. My helmet zipped around in front of Zoom’s crotch, and I immediately shoved it into the elsewhere before he could hit it early or notice and dodge it altogether. The giant man released a pained noise that was half grunt and half moan as the immovable helmet slammed into his junk, and his upper half’s momentum kept moving forward and sent him falling into a tangle of limbs.

Chevalier expertly side-stepped his falling comrade with barely any effect on his sprint forward, and I hurried to form the makeshift stretcher.

“I’ll hold him off,” I told him. “Get Shade ready to go!”

As Chevalier got closer I prepared to throw some piece of his armor into elsewhere, but he abruptly slowed to a stop and sheathed his sword before holding up his hands. “It’s over. You’ve won. I just want to talk.”

I eyed him warily as I summoned my helmet over to my hand. “We don’t have that bitch Octavia, and I don’t know why you think we do.”

“Your file pegs you as either a Tinker whose technology has Shaker effects or else a Shaker pretending to be a Tinker,” he carefully explained. “After everything I’ve seen today, I’m guessing it’s the latter, but in either case, you’re the only person in the area who can remotely damage Reconnoiter’s drones. And that’s not just theory—you’ve done it twice in just the past few minutes.”

“So?”

“So Reconnoiter had drones posted over where your teammate, Newter, left Bard and Octavia, the alleged Master. The drones were damaged and knocked offline. By the time she got more there, the two of them were gone.”

“Octavia _is_ the Master,” I weakly argued, but my heart wasn’t in it with my thoughts racing as they were. _Who did it? How? Did she escape?_

“You’re the only person who could have done it, Meteor, and it was your teammate who planted them where they vanished from. On top of that, your team just got done breaking Canary, another high level master, out of a prison transport. You tell me what I’m supposed to think.”

I grit my teeth and bit out. “We didn’t help her. We’d never help the _fucking bitch_ who _mastered me_!”

I felt something huge enter my range from above, and when two more followed it, my eyes widened.

“Noticed them, have you?” he remarked, his voice casual as can be. “It seems your power’s range is fairly substantial. Roughly an eighth of a mile, would you say?”

“Meteor?” I heard Gregor ask behind me. “What is it?”

I gulped, daunted. “U-Unless I’m off base… Three Dragon-craft are above us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh haaai, Dragon! I guess the PRT decided they weren't going to chance another jailbreak when the people responsible for the last one are already involved. Surprisingly forward thinking of them.
> 
> There will be no chapter next week. Sorry, but that means this chain of action won't be resolved until after the holiday. Spend time with your fam— wait, no, COVID. Um... Hm. Well, spend time with the people you live with and see all the time, I guess? Just don't travel, for pete's sake. That's no bueno right now...
> 
> The vascular surgeon ran into trouble trying to get a picc line installed in my partner's veins (which really drives home just how bad their veins have gotten...), but fortunately, he was able to pivot mid-procedure and install a different kind of line directly into their chest. Not exactly ideal, but I'd much rather that than them not be able to get one in at all and us need to improvise on the spinal stimulator procedure this coming week. Thank goodness we went to a vascular specialist instead of to the ER though. We originally did that to minimize possible COVID exposure, but now I'm questioning whether the ER could have even pulled off the procedure...


	28. Bell 3.11

_“You just want to talk,” huh?_ I sourly thought as I tried to figure out how to get out of this mess. Myrddin was slimed in place with a ring of metal around him, so he was tentatively out of the picture unless he had more tricks up his sleeve. I had no idea how quickly Zoom would recover from taking an immovable object to the balls at speed, but it would definitely be sooner than Shade’s broken legs. _So the immediate concerns are Chevalier, possibly Sakura, and—oh yeah—the_ three _Dragon-craft above us!_ I desperately wanted to know why one of the world’s most famous Tinkers was here, but I would have to figure it out later. I had bigger fish to fry.

“Meteor, confirm: Did you say three of Dragon’s ships are here?” Faultline said over the comms, her tone dark.

“Yeah,” I confirmed, narrowly resisting the urge to take my attention from Chevalier and look directly. I debated for a second whether to say anything further, since it would risk confirming Chevalier’s suspicions, but given Faultline’s rule that we avoid property damage wherever possible, I had to ask. “Permission to break them?”

Her response surprised me and made my heart warm. “Granted. I’ll be damned if we’re not bringing you home.”

Chevalier’s response was more predictable, albeit not in a good way. He surged towards us while reaching for his sword, and I grabbed his armor with my power and threw him back. As he flew through the air, he tried to bring the sword around for a shot, but I shoved it into elsewhere again. I wasn’t caught off guard by the sword splitting into three different swords this time, though I still didn’t understand _why_ it was doing that. 

The Dragon-craft closed the gap to us far quicker than I would have imagined them capable of, and before I could shout a warning to Gregor, two of the huge, metal beasts were upon us. Gregor cried out, but I couldn’t spare the attention as I narrowly dodged a tail swipe and shoved away the weapons mounted on its wings that were trying to aim at me. Goosebumps ran over my arms as the vaguely serpentine, winged tinkertech stared me down for a moment. Gas began to shoot out of cracks in the suit, and I immediately launched into the air before it could reach me. Gregor began to spray something at the gas that surprisingly seemed to be keeping it at bay, but with his attention on the gas, he didn’t seem to see the large machine gun on the craft closest to him was turning to aim at him.

“Please stand down,” Dragon’s synthesized voice projected from both of the craft. “I don’t want to harm you.”

“Coulda fooled me, lady!” I shouted as I split the gun into quarters and ripped it apart. While the Dragon-craft were too massive for me to manipulate on the whole, smaller chunks were something I could handle. Unfortunately, I was so distracted with guarding Gregor that I realized too late that the craft closest to me had taken aim at _me_. A roar like thunder filled my ears as I reflexively clenched my eyes and guarded my face with crossed arms.

I should have been dead, but death never came for me, and the thunderous cacophony died away. I peeked through the gap between my arms to confirm my power wasn’t going haywire, but as expected, enough liquid metal to make a small pond was floating in the air between the gun and me. I stared at it, completely flabbergasted, and who knows how long I might have stayed that way, just marveling at the fact I wasn’t full of more holes than swiss cheese. As it was, however, I was in the middle of a fight, and I noticed in the corner of my eye a veritable storm of pink petals descending upon me—apparently Sakura had been relieved of her charges. With a negligent thought, the liquid metal whipped around me to intercept, and though I managed to intercept almost all of it, I was forced to dodge when a couple of the petals slipped past. I hissed as I felt them slice through my pauldron and cut my arm, but it thankfully seemed my armor had eaten most of the attack.

Still, that was two lucky breaks in a row, and I definitely couldn’t count on a third. _We need to get out of here_ , I thought as I fended off more of Sakura’s attacks while also trying to help Gregor as the two Dragon-craft on the ground pressed the assault on him and the third, a much blockier and seemingly less weapon oriented craft, hovered overhead. I could only just barely keep up as it was, and that meant I couldn’t come up with anything more complex than _run like hell_ for our escape plan. I temporarily spread some of my pool of metal into a large, thin wall and shoved it into elsewhere. Sakura would be able to bypass it by going around, but it would buy me time to work. It seemed like someone had finally given Reconnoiter the memo that it wasn’t wise to continue throwing drones at me in a fight, so I didn’t need to break anymore to hide what I was about to attempt.

No, the only problem I was going to have was _myself_.

I took most of the remainder of my liquid metal and sent it in an arcing path through as much cover as I could towards where Gregor and Shade were, then I hastily pulled my makeshift wall out of elsewhere, split and hardened it into pellets, and sent them flying _everywhere_. Faultline had told me in training that even a bullet from a small handgun traveled at over a hundred miles per hour, and I couldn’t come close to matching that. Despite that, having thousands of pellets bouncing to and fro through the area at close to fifty miles per hour was nothing to scoff at, and I heard the cries of alarm from Sakura, Chevalier, and Zoom. The Dragon-craft, all three of them this time, immediately started to move to guard the heroes, and I rushed forward towards Sakura to keep them off balance and distracted as the metal I had sent around to my friends reached them.

I drew my swords as I approached, and both of the Dragon-craft turned turrets towards me in response. They had just begun to shoot what I suspected was containment foam when I shoved them so they pointed at each other, and I deflected the bits of foam coming at me with my swords before hurling them at Sakura. Once they had left my hand, I quickly used the last of the liquid metal I had kept immediately on hand to form a tall, narrow dome around myself and shoved it into elsewhere. Despite having left myself ample room to breathe, I immediately felt the familiar feeling of claustrophobia begin to settle in. It wasn’t as immediately suffocating as it had been in the past, and loathe though I was to admit anything Octavia had done was of help to me, I suspected that bitch’s insistence on me wearing armor meant it wasn’t quite as bad as it had been after I first triggered. Regardless, I doubted I would be able to stand this for long, and that meant I had to work fast. 

Unfortunately, this was the part of my plan—if it could so be called—where everything was a gamble. Improvisation was going to come more into play, especially since I could no longer see directly what was happening and had to work by my power alone. Besides that, I had impaled Sakura with my swords, or at least I was confident I had, since they were moving but were more or less stable and above the ground and she had screamed very audibly as I had been forming my barrier. The unwritten rules said I was supposed to avoid lethal force, but I already knew Sakura could heal injuries, and she could apparently come back from a lethal attack based on what I had seen earlier when the Nightwalker doused her in acid. Hopefully what I had just done and everything I was about to do were in a gray area.

Using my swords to guide my aim, I began pelting Sakura more specifically with my makeshift orbs. She screeched in pain and what seemed like indignation, and I felt Chevalier and the two Dragon-craft that had attacked us move to flank her while the third craft began to touch down. I formed a barrier between her and where the craft was landing, then formed the metal I had left by my friends into a sort of box with no lid.

“Get in,” I said over the comms, my words wobbly and strained. I was beginning to feel light headed, and if there had been light inside my barrier, I could imagine I might have seen my vision narrowing. “Hurry!”

“We’re in,” Gregor replied as the boxy, transport craft began to move around the barrier rather than land. “Go!”

I hurried to shuttle Gregor and Shade away and briefly removed the shell around me from elsewhere in order to push one of the makeshift orbs in its path into elsewhere instead, causing the craft to abruptly slow and fall to the side with a crunch as it hit the immovable object. That was of course the moment Zoom punched the metal shell, which held up no better than tissue paper stretched as thin as it was. His fist clipped my arm and sent me spinning to the ground, and between that and the effects of the developing panic attack from my claustrophobia, I lost track of what was happening for several moments.

The next thing I knew, I had Zoom’s oversized foot pressing down on my arm just enough to pin me in place, and Chevalier was standing nearby with his sword drawn and its chamber pointed at me. The two combat Dragon-craft had their containment foam launchers aimed at me as well, and I could just barely see Sakura had pulled out my swords and was wobbling towards the transport craft with most of her body covered in petals as she tried to heal. Gregor and Shade were nowhere to be seen, and the box I had made to transport them had fallen to the ground from its previous height of fifty feet high or so along with all of my makeshift orbs, which had likewise fallen to the ground once I was unconscious. “You’re under arrest, Meteor,” Chevalier grimly intoned. “Tell us where Octavia Thatcher is. _Now_.”

“Y’know,” I snarked, glancing at my pinned arm—the same one Sakura had hit with her petals, Zoom had punched, and above all else was the arm Boudicca had broken just over a week ago. “You assholes already fucked up this arm enough back in Providence. Think you could switch to the other one? Old leftie is really feeling unloved.”

“This isn’t a time for games!”

“Meteor,” I heard Gregor’s voice in my ear. “I have left Shade in the transport you made, and I am near you. If Reconnoiter has any drones in the area, then please take care of them then lift your left arm to give the all clear.”

Reconnoiter still hadn’t put any more into the area, which I presumed meant she was either looking in the surrounding areas for Octavia and Bard or I had just broken all of them by now. “Could’ve fooled me!” I spit at Chevalier. “You’re fucking around with us when you should be hunting down Octavia! I already told you, _we don’t have her_!” I raised my left arm in the air and shook it a bit. “Now let my right arm go, goddammit! Take the other one if you want, but I’m right-handed for fuck’s sake!”

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re still mastered,” he grimly informed me as I watched a glob of fluid fly through the air, lobbed high in an arc, “but we still have to take you in for—”

He was cut off by Sakura wailing in agony, and he and Zoom whirled around to check what was wrong. One of the Dragon-craft kept its gaze on me while the other turned to look, and I severed the connection between the containment foam launchers and the craft. I nearly swore when they immediately fell off— _I should have done that earlier!_ I berated myself—and both craft immediately lunged towards me. Taking the lesson I had just learned to heart, I dislodged the heads of each craft while I yanked my armor roughly to the side to dodge their approach. I had been quick enough to dodge the initial charge, but the closest one managed to slam its tail into my left arm before I could get away entirely—an irony that didn’t go unnoticed. I tumbled across the soft ground and felt three small, roughly cylindrical metal objects of some kind fly out of one craft on a path towards me. Not knowing what they were, I slammed them together to disrupt their flight path.

The only reason I wasn’t blown to pieces when the _missiles_ jointly erupted in a tremendous explosion was they had only just left the Dragon-craft. As it was, I was sent tumbling away again, only this time far more violently. Like I had after being kicked by the Nightwalker earlier, I managed to slow my undesired flight down, but _also_ like earlier, I still very painfully slammed into a goddamn tree. 

I groaned as I tried to regain my bearings, and I heard Gregor’s harried voice in my ear, “Meteor, are you okay?”

“Did someone get the license plate of that vehicle?” I muttered as I took stock of the scene before me. Apparently the explosion had been close enough to the craft that fired the missiles that a huge chunk of it had been blown away, and it now laid lifeless on the ground. Chevalier and Zoom had both been caught in the explosion as well, and neither looked to be in good shape, though it was hard to judge with Chevalier covered in his armor. Neither the still bound Myrddin or Sakura seemed to have been hit by the explosion, but Sakura was completely engulfed in her petals once more. The misshapen patch of black, smoldering earth underneath her told me Gregor had thought the same thing I had—hit her hard, and she’ll recover. The other assault Dragon-craft and its transport sibling were left relatively unscathed by the explosion, but they didn’t interfere as Gregor cautiously but swiftly emerged from the cover he had launched his assault from and made his way over to me.

“That does not tell me if you are okay,” he scolded as he helped me gingerly rise to my feet. I appreciated the assistance, since I didn’t think I could move my armor finely enough with my power to not make getting up be entirely awful. Even still, I did need to use my power and his shoulder to stay up right. 

“Guess not,” I admitted, grimacing a bit as I tried to work past the pain. “Everything hurts like a motherfucker, but I don’t _think_ anything’s broken?”

“This is an improvement over our last outing, yes?” he gently joked.

I couldn’t quite help the snort that escaped me. “At least there’s that,” I agreed with a smile.

“Meteor.”

Gregor and I tensed as the lone working assault craft took a step towards us. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about all of this.”

I blinked, nonplussed. _Hadn’t expected that…_ Wary of another trick, I grabbed the box I had been ferrying Shade and Gregor away in and began bringing it back over as quickly but safely as I could. Shade was still in it and injured, after all. “Yeah, well, it’s not worth much,” I replied, not bothering to hide how bitter I was. “None of this shit would have happened if you had all just _listened_. Why the _fuck_ would we have helped that mind-fucking—”

I exhaled sharply as I cut myself off before I could keep going. I wanted to tear into Dragon and give her a piece of my goddamn mind, but Shade needed medical attention. “We’re going. Don’t try to stop us this time, or I might do something I’ll regret.”

“Wait, please,” Dragon said as the craft lowered itself a bit, seemingly deflating. “These three need medical attention, and the closest PRT agents are at least five minutes away with this terrain. Would you please help me get them into my transport craft?”

“You honestly—” I angrily started to snarl before pausing when Gregor laid a hand on my shoulder.

“We can do this,” Gregor soberly answered. “Despite coming to blows today, we are not villains. Please consider it our way of extending an olive branch in the hopes that we can maintain our business ties moving forward.”

“Gregor,” I hissed at him.

“I can’t speak for the PRT or the Protectorate,” was Dragon’s measured response, “but I can promise to put in a good word and my recommendation that they not revisit your group’s status in light of today’s events.”

“We are mercenaries,” Gregor whispered to me when I made a disgruntled noise. “We need to try and retain our relationship. You understand?”

I got it. I really did. But the idea of doing anything for the so-called heroes after the bullshit they had just tried to pull and the accusations they were throwing at us really got to me. I hesitated, my fists clenched at my sides. “I… I don’t…” Gregor gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, and for a brief moment, I thought of the night I moved out of Masuyo’s apartment and the unwavering support he had shown and still did.

I huffed, and the makeshift orbs all over the area rose into the air. “Yeah. I’ll… I’ll move them in.”

* * *

The street signs illuminating the now dark streets of Philadelphia had long since begun to blur together, a sea of all colors of light set against a black that seemed so much darker than it had just yesterday. But then, yesterday I hadn’t known.

 _Mastered._ Yesterday, that had just been a word, a concept. Being mastered was something that happened to other people. Not me. Not Elle. My gut instinct when the adrenaline had finally faded away and the reality of what had happened finally, properly hit me had been to quit the team. It was a stupid thought, but it honestly had crossed my mind. It wasn’t stupid to give a fuck about my safety—I had been taking care of myself for long enough to know that—but quitting wouldn’t have accomplished anything. We weren’t mastered while on the job; we were mastered at the _goddamn zoo_. A part of me had tried to argue I wouldn’t have been at the zoo but for being on the team, but that also missed the point. We were mastered at the zoo. I was attacked and nearly killed walking down the street after window shopping. 

_Danger is everywhere._ I had already known that, but only now did that finally feel _real_ to me.

But then there was more. I had already felt like I couldn’t quite trust myself after the revelation that my power came with a compulsion. That if I didn’t use it at all times, I might go mad and do something I would regret. Now that I knew I had been mastered for days without realizing it? Yeah, now it was worse.

_“You two really are parahumans, right? Tell me!”_

I jerked away from where I had been staring at the window, all my muscles tense and my power latching on to all the orbs in the bag that I had brought with me from the swamp to feel safe—to feel in control. My eyes darted around the minivan— _Just the three of us_ —then to the world outside the van’s window— _Sea of color and black_.

Aisha was staring openly but uncertainly at me in the rear view mirror, and I could just barely make out the occasional, discrete sideways glance Gregor tossed my way. I realized I was breathing heavily, really heavily, and consciously tried to calm down. I halfway succeeded. My breathing approached a steady rhythm to normal levels, but I doubted I would actually be calm again for a while. If ever. After all…

 _Danger is everywhere_.

“You alright, Junebug?” Aisha asked, her words still tinged with that uncharacteristically sober tone they’d had since this afternoon. There was no pained stress in her voice either. She had cheated her way into having non-broken legs by abusing her charge of Sakura’s powers. She would probably be walking with a limp for a week or two, but at least she didn’t have to make shady deals with parahumans on the roof of hospitals after being attacked for being there in the first place.

“M’fine,” I muttered as I pulled the bag of orbs in my lap tighter against my sweater covered chest and tried in vain to relax back into the passenger seat. When we had abandoned our makeshift getaway vehicle in favor of one actually planned for in advance, we had changed into some of the clothes packed away in it. The sweater and jeans I had slipped into weren’t a great fit, likely intended for Masuyo or maybe even Melanie, but they had reminded me of Elle, and I had needed that comfort. Aisha thankfully didn’t press, at least, she hadn’t since the first time she tried and Gregor had swiftly interjected that she needed to give me space to process things.

Like a bit of space would change the fact we could be mastered at any moment and never know.

 _“Shut up. Shut up right now, or I swear to god, I’ll command you to stop breathing. Do you want that?_ Huh _?!”_

If either of them noticed my flinch or the clacking sound of my orbs swirling around in my bag, then they were kind enough not to draw attention to it this time.

“We are here,” Gregor announced as he turned off the street.

Aisha turned to glance out the window, and my eyes flicked around, examining the outside world as the smear of lights passing by slowed down and settled into comprehensible words. I blinked, somewhat taken aback. “Wait,” I spoke up, “are we really meeting up at a restaurant?” 

“Yes,” he calmly confirmed as he finished smoothly parallel parking and shifted the car into park.

“What about the Flycatcher?”

“We didn’t expect Dragon to be there today, so—”

“She might be trackin’ us,” Aisha bluntly interrupted. “Gotta lay low for a bit.”

_You could be tracked and never know. Mastered all over again and never see it coming._

I tried to force myself to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth as the panic began to mount again, and Gregor heavily frowned at Aisha in the mirror. “We are only going to stay here to recuperate for a bit with the others while we wait to see if the PRT make a move,” he clarified. “If nothing happens in a couple of hours, then Melanie will let us go in small groups back to the Flycatcher.”

I nodded, seeing the sense in the plan but not confident I could say anything right now. I was still trying to bring myself back down to an acceptable level of manageable panic. He watched me carefully for a moment then pulled up the hood on his hoodie and said, “I will come around and get the door for you.”

I nodded again, and he and Aisha undid their seatbelts and slipped out. In what felt like a second, Gregor was opening my door, and I jumped a little bit. He paused halfway through the motion, his eyes meeting my panicked gaze as I clutched at my bag. He more slowly continued to pull it open, and when I made no move to undo my seatbelt, he asked, “May I help you, Juniper?”

“S-Sure,” I stuttered. Was this what Elle felt like day to day? Hanging on by a thread, barely able to talk—forced to rely on others for help? Feeling it firsthand myself gave me a deeper appreciation for how tough it was. He gently undid the harness while taking care to make sure it didn’t whip off of me, and I forced myself to let go of my bag with my left arm to allow it by and with a deep, steadying breath, I let him take my hand and guide me out onto the pavement. Aisha was staring but clearly trying not to, and I did my best to appear like I didn’t notice.

The three of us made our way into the restaurant, and I didn’t let go of Gregor or my bag the whole way. The greeter at the front, a tall blond lady with a friendly smile, didn’t ask for a name and simply led us deeper in. We passed right by the dimly lit dining area, and though I could tell from the noise and the movement of metal there was a surprising number of patrons for a Tuesday night, I couldn’t properly see much thanks to a chest high wall topped with frosted glass that extended straight up to the ceiling. There were only two breaks in it where one could pass through, but the staff member guided us straight past those and carefully knocked a pattern on the door off the hallway.

The door opened after a moment, and I tensed when someone I didn’t know was revealed: A beanpole of a man with tanned skin and wiry black hair. He took one look at us then nodded. “Excellent. Thanks, Eighteen, I’ll take them from here.”

“W-Who are you?” I shakily demanded as I took a half step back.

The two looked to Gregor, and he quietly explained, “Their names are Sebastian and Erica. They are friends and Ariel’s… kin.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head and not at all reassured. “Eighteen. You called her Eighteen, not Erica.” The balls in my bag were beginning to clack as they swirled around, making the bag writhe like it was filled with bugs. “I-I’m looking for some c-cabbage. Do you know where I can f-find some?”

Gregor turned towards me and knelt down so he could look me in the eye. I was struck by just how much taller and bigger he was than me. It hadn’t really hit me until that moment, but I don’t think I had ever felt so vulnerable around him either. _Danger is everywhere_. “Not at all,” he carefully answered, “but I know a good place to get some soup, if you’re interested.”

My eyes flicked from him to them and back again. “I don’t understand,” I whispered.

He paused momentarily, a brief flash of uncertainty crossing his visage, then quietly explained, “When Ariel tried to save you and Elle at the zoo, did you see…?”

“There wasn’t any metal, but…” I glanced back at the two… people with wide eyes. “Then they’re…?”

“Not homegrown?” the man Gregor had called Sebastian interjected with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, we’re different. This isn’t the best place to be talking about that sort of thing though, so if you’d come inside, that would be just dandy.”

In the end, it wasn’t Gregor’s reassurances that got me to go inside, but who I saw step into sight just behind Sebastian. Melanie stood there in jeans with a leather jacket over a faded t-shirt, and right next to her was—

I rushed forward, all but shoving the man in the doorway out of my path before dropping my bag and sweeping her up into a hug. “Elle,” I breathed out, burying my face in her hair and the smell of citrus. She hugged me back, and for a minute I just basked in holding her again after everything we had been through. I eventually pulled back a bit without letting go and looked her over, checking for injuries. “I don’t understand. I thought…?”

“I did shoot her with Newter’s spit, but it was diluted,” Melanie spoke up from beside us. I glanced her way and saw that Masuyo and Newter were here too and dressed in plainclothes like Melanie, though Newter was covered up in a hooded jacket and gloves. “We couldn’t have filled all of the water guns in the amount of time we had otherwise.”

I looked back to Elle. Her eyes were distant, but she was facing me. In that gaze that looked past me—through me—she saw whole worlds I would only ever catch glimpses of. But after what we had been through, I could now see one far more clearly. “You said I deserve better,” I murmured, “but you’re wrong. _You_ deserve better than me.”

Her hands clenched my arms a bit where they laid, and her head tilted ever so minutely. For how deep in her bad space she was, it must have been a herculean effort for her. My lips tremulously quirked up a bit. “Why?” I said for her before shaking my head. “You’re the strongest person I know, and you’re proving it right now, silly. I’m nothing in comparison.”

Her grip didn’t yield, and her distant gaze didn’t waver.

I paused a beat then asked, “But if you’ll still have me… I promise the second date won’t be as bad?”

Her hands let go, and for a brief moment, my heart sank. Then she shifted forward and gently tugged me into a hug.

I started crying, but they might just have been the happiest tears I had ever shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crying! *You're* crying!
> 
> We're in the homestretch, everyone! This was the last regular chapter of Bell, and unless something weird comes up as I go to write 3.y, next week will be our final chapter. The first half of the interlude will be from Chevalier's perspective, and the other half will be someone who's only been alluded to so far... Who that is you'll just have to wait and see 
> 
> I hope everyone had a lovely week off! Here in the US, last week was Thanksgiving, and I'm proud to say I made my first fully homemade spread of food: Green beans, stuffing, strawberry icebox cake (a favorite for my partner and I!), and—of course—turkey. I learned about the concept of spatchcocking and decided to finally give the infamous bird an attempt, and though the skin didn't turn out as crispy as I'd like (thanks, shitty apartment oven, for making me have to improvise timings! ), it was still delicious. But our week was filled with more than just cooking! My partner also had their spinal stimulator trial, and I'm pleased to announce it went very well. Their pain was palpably improved, and though we have to work on getting their blood pressure up if we want the same doctor to do the permanent implant done (which we do), we're already making progress on that end and should be on the path to improvement as soon as Monday.
> 
> A big thank you to everyone of you for reading, and an extra big thank you to everyone who comments/reviews! I love you all so much!!


	29. Bell 3.y

“Hello, Stardust. I know you’ve been over your story already, but let’s walk through it again from the beginning.”

Stardust groaned and buried her face in her hands. Chevalier quietly agreed with the sentiment from where he watched the interview on a monitor in a separate, far away room. This would be either the fourth or fifth time they’d gone over everything—he had honestly stopped counting. Unfortunately, a Master abducting a member of the Protectorate who had served for five years, three of those as a ward, was a ‘grievous breach of security perpetrated by an at-large Master that must be accounted for with appropriate countermeasures.’ Or at least, that’s what the official paperwork called it.

Chevalier thought _nightmare_ was more apt.

“Shuffle and I were out on patrol. I don’t remember the exact date or time, but I know it was a Wednesday evening because he wouldn’t shut up about getting a hump day hot dog at that one stand he likes after our shift. We got the call about Octahedron causing a disturbance in the library at UIC.”

“Octahedron being the group otherwise known as The Eight,” the PRT interviewer clarified. “Please continue.”

Stardust rolled her eyes but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the interruption. She had explained to the first two interviewers sent in that ‘Octahedron’ was the name for the group Octavia preferred in spite of the public dismissal of the unwieldy name. “We got there, and they were—”

“Clarify who ‘they’ are, for the record, please.”

“Oh come on,” the hero bemoaned. “We’ve been over this… I don’t even _know_ how many times we’ve been over—”

Myrddin, who had been silently watching the interview at Chevalier’s side along with Director Travers, leaned forward and held down a button. “Stardust, again, I’m sorry you have to go through this, but until we better understand the power used on you, we have to take precautions.”

He released the button, and the three of them watched as Stardust’s rant was interrupted by Myrddin’s message being carried through to the secured interview room on an intentional delay. Stardust slumped a bit, seemingly chagrined, before resignedly saying, “We got there, and Bard, Monk, and Artificer were throwing books off the shelves as they searched for what they claimed was a tome. Said they needed it to dispel a curse.”

“Do you know the names or iden—”

“ _No_ , I only know those names. Didn’t even know that much at the time. I vaguely knew about the group in passing from PHO, but even then, I only knew them as the D&D capes.”

“Okay, thank you,” the interviewer pleasantly acknowledged with a gentle nod. “Please proceed.”

“Well needless to say, a group of three capes causing a scene in the middle of the library wasn’t okay, but it was especially bad because they were also causing property damage by being less than _gentle_ with the books. We relayed to console—Bearach, sorry, he was on console—what was happening, then we engaged.”

It didn’t escape Chevalier’s notice that she still wasn’t referring to Octavia as a cape.

“Okay. What happened next?”

“Artificer started tearing apart books to make some kind of sword from paper, so Shuffle teleported as many of the books out of the way as he could to a more empty area of the library, and Artificer tried to attack him with the halfway made sword. I was busy with Monk and Bard, who had merged. See, Bard’s power lets him enhance who he’s in. Stronger, faster, healing—the usual stuff. I think he could only boost one thing more than the rest if he focused on just that, but I never confirmed that for sure, and I definitely didn’t know it then. _Anyway_ , Monk was crazy fast and strong because of that, and I couldn’t keep up in my metal form, so I switched to wood, so I’d be a bit faster but still have toughness and would get regeneration. As soon as I did that, Octavia asked us all to stop fighting. The library _was_ getting damaged more than we wanted, since we hadn’t been able to maneuver them outside, so stopping did seem like the best option. Then—”

“I’m sorry,” the interviewer jumped in, a look of consternation on his face, “but I’d like to clarify that point some more. First, who is Octavia?”

“Ugh, right, sorry,” Stardust apologized, running her hand through her close cropped, bright blond hair. “All these interviews are starting to blur together. Thought I’d already said. Octavia is the leader of Octahedron.”

“The leader? You mentioned three capes before: Bard, Monk, and Artificer. Where was this ‘Octavia’ at the time?”

“She was there too. She’s not a cape, so I guess it hadn’t occurred to me to mention her.”

“Not a cape?” When Stardust nodded, the interview pressed her, “But she asked you all to stop fighting, and… you did?”

“W-Well, like I said, we were trying to avoid causing additional property damage.”

“But this thought didn’t occur to you until Octavia told you to stop?”

Stardust crossed her arms, having grown visibly more uncomfortable at the line of questioning. “Look, I get it. It’s not normal protocol, but you _weren’t there_. Octavia’s a good kid. Excitable and weird, but she wouldn’t even harm a fly. She asked us to stop, and I didn’t question it.”

“And it’s at this time you decided to quit the Protectorate, correct? Because somebody you had never spoken to before asked you to.”

“It’s not like I agreed straight away,” she defensively pointed out. “She started talking about Octahedron and what they did, and after a bit I just… started to see the appeal. All the talk of traveling the country, seeing new places and people, even the roleplaying—it just seemed fun.” 

“More fun than being a hero?”

Stardust turned away, her eyes set firmly on the door and her body tense. “Yes, alright? Yes. Being a hero was what I always wanted as a kid, but Octavia, she… has this way of explaining things. She has this _charisma_. It’s hard to say no to her.”

The interviewer hummed for a moment before asking the most important question. “Stardust, please repeat what I’m about to say: Octavia is a Master.”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t understand what you just said,” Stardust replied, heaving out a frustrated sigh. “You all keep saying that weird gobbledygook and never explaining it. When is this going to be over?” She looked up and all around the room, undoubtedly searching for the tinkertech cameras they were watching the feed through, but eventually she settled on the more visible speaker in the corner of the room. “Myrddin, I’m sorry I left! Please can we just call this quits for now? I’m getting a headache from going over this again and again!”

Chevalier’s old friend sighed and leaned forward to depress the button once more. “We can take a break for a short bit after this interview, but we can’t stop just yet.” He paused for a moment then more softly added, “Thank you for being patient with us. We’ll get you home as soon as we can, Star.”

The message played through after a delay, and Stardust took it about as well as could be expected, buckling down with a resigned sigh and an impatient ‘get on with it’ gesture at the interviewer.

“Okay, let’s talk about what happened when the Eight went to Toronto and recruited Wavelength,” the interviewer continued, but Chevalier had already begun to tune it out.

“We’re not getting anywhere with this,” Chevalier needlessly pointed out as he turned away from the monitor to look at Travers. They had been throwing fresh interviewers at Stardust all afternoon to probe how deeply she had been mastered while hoping she might give up extra information, especially anything that might give them some notion of how to proceed. Unfortunately, they had all been progressing in roughly the same vein, which meant they had little to show for their efforts.

“And what else do you propose we do?” the Director of the Philadelphia PRT grunted in reply. “Whole situation’s fucked six ways to Sunday. There’s a Master loose whose power is so strong it seems they can get their victims to _self-justify_ their changes in behavior, and the best information we have on them is they _might_ be Octavia Thatcher, who also might just be a victim set up as a patsy. Then just to add insult to injury, UPenn’s initial estimates are well over a million in damages, and the both of you as well as _Dragon_ got your asses handed to you.”

“You must see reason,” Myrddin argued. “I’m confident we’ll get something out of Stardust eventually, but we can’t keep pushing her like this. She’s been through enough.”

Regrettably, Travers was having none of it. “I understand she’s one of yours, Myrddin, but right now Stardust is one of our only leads, and she’s the best one. I’ve got people milking Artificer and Monk for information, but those two are holding their cards close to their chest. Dragon has other matters she has to turn her attention to, and nobody from Faultline’s crew has peeked their heads out of whatever bolthole they’ve scurried into. Push her until we get something actionable, understood?

“I want ‘Charisma’ found. _Now_.”

* * *

“We have visitors.”

Brood didn’t pause as she finished making final adjustments to the toxin-purification module she was hunched over. “The expected kind, I trust?”

“The Mel kind. And she brought the kid.”

Her lips set themselves in grim determination, but she didn’t immediately abandon her work. “Please ask Nineteen to see them in, One. I’ll be with them in just a tick,” she replied as she deemed the module ready and secured the myomer layer back in place before temporarily sealing the chest cavity. More work would be needed before her latest egg would be ready to properly replace Sixteen, but Thirty-Four had already temporarily relocated to Philadelphia so the project there wouldn’t fall even more behind schedule.

Seventy-Seven would keep for now.

Brood moved to the cleaning station and stepped into place, letting her device begin to dissolve the excess tissues and fluids coating her protective gear into base matter she would repurpose later. She stripped away her gear and set it aside for internal cleaning once the exterior was bio-matter free, then she started towards the hallway that would lead her to the room with her normal clothes. She looked to her dresser when she entered, and just as expected, clothes had already been laid out for her.

“One, please pass along my thanks to Nineteen,” she said as she put on fresh underwear before tugging the hose and slip into place. A nice blue dress meant for around-the-house wear was hung on the post jutting from her closet, and her chest tightened a bit at the sight. It was the sort of attire she used to wear all the time but hadn’t in ages.

 _In her mind’s eye, her sweet daughter looked up at her with a big smile complete with missing teeth as she skipped along beside her. Her nice blue paisley Sunday dress that matched her eyes bounced along with her blonde hair in time to each hop as they made their way down the street hand-in-hand. “Mommy, can we get_ ice cream _after lunch?!”_

_She hummed as she pretended to think about it. “Maybe… if you’re a good girl.”_

_“I’ll be the bestest ever! Promise!”_

The groan of warping, cracking wood drew her out of her reverie, and Brood hastily pulled her hand away from where she had been gripping the closet door. _Keep going. You’ll get her back._

She didn’t want to make her guests wait, but she did need a minute before she could finish dressing and make her way to the room where they were waiting. The two of them looked up when she entered, and recognition and warmth lit up Melanie’s face as she rose to her feet from her chair. “Grace. It’s good to see you.” She eyed the dress with a quirked eyebrow then added, “You look well.”

Brood gave her the best smile she could muster. “And you, Mel. You’re looking at extra effort today, I’m afraid. Normally you’d be lucky to catch me in regular clothes, much less all of this.”

The smile on Melanie’s face grew a hair more strained. “Yes, I know. It hasn’t been _that_ long.” Her posture shifted, something in her stance and gaze hardening, and she asked, “Are you ready to begin?”

“All business as usual,” Brood reproached. “It’s good to see some things don’t change. Won’t you introduce me to your crewmate?”

Melanie’s eyebrows rose. “One didn’t tell you?”

“She only mentioned you would be bringing along a crewmate who would be invaluable to the… interrogation,” she admitted as she eyed the young girl Melanie had brought with her. She had a natural sort of beauty that was apparent despite how… _dressed down_ she was. The ripped jeans and oversized bomber jacket would have been easier to overlook were they not paired with a dyed purple streak of hair and a graphic tee that featured hands flipping the bird over the text ‘All I Have To Give.’

“Right, well, this is Aisha. She’s the newest member of my crew,” she introduced before gesturing towards Brood. “Aisha, this is Grace. She’s an old friend.”

The girl glanced from Melanie to Brood then back. “You two are more mismatched than two left shoes. How the hell’re you friends with Stepford Wife?”

 _She must get along splendidly with Newter,_ was Brood’s uncomplimentary thought.

“ _Aisha_ ,” Melanie dangerously intoned. “Not the time or place.”

“Might be convinced to be nicer if you’d get around to tellin’ me what we’re doing here. Just a thought.”

Brood fixed Melanie with a look. _It seems I’m not the only one who isn’t being told things, Mel._

“I told you I would tell you when we got here, and I meant that,” Melanie countered, unmoved by the teen’s snarky reply. “As it happens, I was wanting to explain once Grace was present.”

Aisha smirked. “And now she’s here. So spill.”

Melanie briefly returned Brood’s look, and she could practically imagine the other woman saying, _“See what I have to put up with?”_ She returned her attention to Aisha and explained, “You recall Sebastian’s explanation about the Clutch, yes?”

“Androids are lurking among us, ready to shlorp the brains of our kids and _take our jeeebs_! Look out, ‘cause the future is now, and the past is yesterday!” Melanie released a longsuffering sigh, which elicited a chuckle from Aisha. “Yeah, yeah, I remember,” she added, squinting at Brood. “So this is ‘Zero,’ huh? Gotta say, I was expecting, like, _anybody else_.”

Brood fixed a smile on her face, doing her best to will herself to be patient. _Mel wouldn’t have brought her here if it wasn’t necessary. Stay strong._ “Just so. Though only my clutch call me Zero. I prefer the name Brood.”

The girl’s eyes and smirk widened gleefully. “That right? You def look the brooding type. I can see you now, perched on a rooftop while you solemnly contemplate what the evil villains have done to your city. You are the night! You are… _The_ _Brood_!”

“Not _that_ kind of Brood,” Brood started to explain, only for Melanie to cut her off with, “She’s being purposefully dense, Grace. Please ignore her.”

“I see... Well, before we proceed downstairs, may I ask _why_ it was important to bring Aisha here?”

“Of course. Aisha’s power is the ability to copy others’ powers. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but to summarize, she can only copy powers for so long at a time.”

Brood’s eyes widened. “Ah.”

Melanie’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “Yes.”

“Let’s head down,” she murmured as she turned to lead the way and waved for her guests to follow.

“Sooooo,” Aisha drawled as they made their way downstairs and the lights changed from the homier lights of the living room into the utilitarian variety also used in her lab. “You ain’t gonna kill me and use me for parts or nuthin’, right?”

“Your body is safe from me,” Brood wryly responded. “I only make my clutch from materials derived from the bodies of virgins sacrificed under a full moon.”

Aisha chuckled and quipped, “Pretty sure tonight’s a full moon, Stepford.”

“Sorry,” One interrupted, “but the next full moon begins tomorrow night.”

Aisha stopped in her tracks halfway through a step with wide eyes. “The fuck was that?”

Brood paused. “I could tell you,” she replied as she engaged the motor functions of her hair and made the strands writhe as she silently prompted One, who finished for her, “but are you sure you want to know?”

The teen stared at her for several seconds. Brood didn’t need to turn around to see. She could see the girl’s reactions just fine through the optic refraction of the prisms interwoven with the myomer strands that made up her hair. “Damn Stepford, you ain’t gotta turn the freaky dial up to eleven. I already knew you were one of the bots. Chill.”

That caught her off guard. “Oh? What gave me away?”

Aisha shrugged nonchalantly. “You ain’t got the spark, so you ain’t a parahuman. Only sparks right here are mine ‘n’ Boss lady’s plus whoever that familiar spark is further downstairs.”

 _‘Spark’… An expression of her power?_ Such a thing was difficult to work around, since every power was unique in some way. They could be similar, but no two powers were truly the same. _But she can feel the girl downstairs from this distance? Extraordinary._ “I see. You are both correct and wrong, I’m afraid,” she replied as she resumed guiding them.

“Nah,” Aisha denied. “No spark, no power. Those’re the rules.”

“A word to the wise, dear,” Brood pointed out as she walked up to the monitoring room and its door slid open. “Powers are more complex than you know. There will always be interactions you can’t predict.”

“Jesus fuck on a candy stick,” Aisha muttered as she stepped into the room and gaped at the monitors. “I knew I recognized that spark, but without lookin’ at her… What the actual fuck are you playing at here?”

“For example,” Brood continued, as if Aisha hadn’t interrupted, “did you know that one could acquire powers by drinking the contents of a bottle?”

Aisha’s eyes whipped from Brood to Melanie and back a few times before landing on the latter, whose eyes were resolute as she watched the screens. “What the shit is she talking about?”

“This is why I waited until we were here to explain, Aisha.” Melanie stepped further into the room until she was by Brood’s side. “You already know ‘Case-53’ is the term used to refer to capes like Gregor and Newter. An individual with a unique appearance and a power who woke up one day in some unfamiliar city, unsure who they are or how they got there. Gregor, Newter, and even Elle have been setting aside a portion of their take from each of our jobs to pay for the investigation into the origin of Case-53s. Until recently, I pursued this investigation just for them, hoping I could give them the closure they sought.

“Now things are different. I caught wind of a lead in Philadelphia and followed up on it. I learned something I hadn’t expected: Their case was likely related to ours.”

“‘Ours’?” Aisha parroted, glancing at Brood.

“Ours,” Brood affirmed as she watched her prisoner begin to wake up as she slowly tapered down the sedative without killing the stream entirely. Her honey colored eyes were left unfocused still, and her shoulder-length brown hair hung somewhat limply, though its wavy texture was still discernible.

“So the PRT were actually right to get pissed off at us,” Aisha pointedly remarked with evident irritation. “Color me surprised.”

“The majority of capes get their powers from triggering,” Melanie continued, ignoring the jab. “You have the worst day of your life—are pushed to the breaking point then pushed right past it. Most of these capes got their powers… organically, we’ll call it. Life put them into such a situation naturally. Capes like Grace and I, however, were put there on purpose.”

_“Mommy!” her daughter wailed as she was taken away by the man who introduced himself as Adam before stabbing her._

_“Put her down!” she screamed at the monster pretending to be a man as she desperately tried to put pressure on the gaping wound in her side. “Leave my daughter alone!”_

_“I can fix her! Please, let me fix Mommy!”_

It was only thanks to her complete control over her body’s autonomous functions that Brood didn’t flinch as the memory washed over her. _Keep going. You’ll get her back._

“We found each other while looking for answers,” Melanie continued to explain, “and we’ve been searching together for those responsible since. Our methods may differ, but we’ve always been after the same goal. I found paperwork in Philly that suggested the people who forced us to trigger may be behind Case-53s, and strangely enough, I found _her_ name on a list of their clients who got powers out of a bottle. Now, we could probably use… less savory methods to force her,” she nodded at the monitor, “to talk, but we would undoubtedly get better answers if you interrogate her instead.”

“Torturing this bitch would be the nicer method,” Aisha disagreed as she glared at the image of a severely disoriented Octavia Thatcher on the display. Apparently her hatred was enough to overcome any shock from the revelations she was being bombarded with. “You’ve seen what she did to Junebug and El.”

Brood watched silently as the two of them shared a long look, clearly communicating through unspoken words. She knew enough about the situation from One to understand. June and Elle—they were the girls Octavia had kidnapped and whom Sixteen had died trying to save. The attempt to rescue them had provided the cover necessary for her Clutch to abscond with the incapacitated Master and the Breaker within her, an unexpected prize whose corona pollentia had yielded fascinating data that she was even now trying to incorporate into her latest eggs. Whether the concept would prove successful remained to be seen, but if it did, then Seventy-Seven would likely be the first completed egg with the advancement.

“Fuck, I’ll do it,” Aisha finally responded. “Way I look at it, serves the bitchsicle right to get a taste’a her own medicine.”

Melanie pulled a small box out of the pocket of her black slacks, and even before she opened it, Brood readily identified the communication system she had rushed to upgrade for Melanie’s crew in preparation for the rescue attempt at the library. The tinkertech was outside her specialty and had accordingly been a pain to develop, but it had been tangential enough she thankfully hadn’t been left to fly alone in the dark, metaphorically speaking. “I know your power works better with proximity and eye contact, but we can’t send you in with no protection. You remember the upgrades we discussed prior to UPenn, right?” 

“Yeah, I remember. Things’ll block out all of what she’s saying and let me hear you.”

“ _Almost_ all of what she’s saying. There’s still a risk. This is your last chance to back out.”

“You already forget who broke their motherfucking legs in that shithole swamp to get Junebug ‘n’ El out? Gimme the damn earbuds, Boss.”

Several minutes later, Brood watched with grim anticipation as Aisha entered the room where Octavia was being held. Shadows burst from the girl and writhed over her skin in a tight weave as she changed, growing pudgier to the point that her jeans and shirt were ill fitting and her bomber jacket actually looked to be a more appropriate size. _This could be it,_ she thought, properly allowing herself to hope. Five years. She had languished over the kidnapping of her daughter for five years. This interrogation, what they learned here, was going to change everything. Every one of her bodies she had stationed in labs across the country paused in their work as all of her focus, for once, rested solely on one location.

In Arizona, the original Brood twitched within the enclosure she used to synchronize with her bodies, and One turned from her command center to examine her directly in concern. Unable to grow naturally, One’s big, blue eyes remained a painful reminder of her daughter—a picture of her beautiful baby girl, frozen in time.

“Whooz yooou?” Octavia slurred as her eyes attempted to focus on her doppelgänger. “Whhhyyy you like... liiike me?”

“Look left. Look right,” Aisha began ordering, pausing only long enough for the impaired Master to attempt to follow the directions. 

After a few questions, Brood cut the flow of her specialized sedative, letting its effects wear off at an accelerated rate. _The Master power should have taken effect by now._

Apparently Aisha agreed, since she finally started the real interrogation. “Tell me everything you know about _Eden_.”

_You be a good girl and hang on, Riley. Mommy’s coming to save you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has been... a not good week, and I'll leave it at that. I thought I was going to break my streak of only missing weeks when I warned y'all in advance. But, uh, hey, it's still Friday in ~Caaalifooorniaaa~
> 
> In lieu of a longer author note, I'm gonna just crash now and probs make a commentary-esque post later. Kay, baaaaaaaai


	30. Snare 4.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A part of me feels like I shouldn't have to say this, given how last arc went, but just to be safe...
> 
> Warning: A lot of shit's about to happen/be talked about. C/W for self harm, mind control, forced murder, and a dash of gender dysphoria.
> 
> There's some fluff in here too, but yeah, you've been warned.

“Elle!” I cried as I sloshed through the knee high swamp water as quickly as I could, my breaths coming out in frantic huffs. Each breath in was accompanied by a fresh wave of nausea as the putrid, dank atmosphere of the area flowed into my lungs. I was managing to hold back the bile rising in my throat if only just barely, and I knew with certainty that if I weren’t in the midst of trying to save Elle, I would have given in to the sickness.

Up ahead, Elle silently reached out towards me, her face twisted in horrific pain as a pack of skeletons and trolls surrounded her and began tearing at her, prying away her pale skin and hair in long, bloody patches.

“ _NO_!” I screamed, trying to find my bow as I ran and ran, futilely trying to close the gap between us that seemed to grow wider by the second.

“Shut up. Shut up right now, or I swear to god, I’ll command you to stop breathing. Do you want that? _Huh_?!”

“Stop it!! Leave her alone!!” I roared in defiance only for my foot to catch on a root that laid unseen under the surface of the murky, reed filled waters. I fell forward but managed to land on my knees instead of falling completely into the filth, and my eyes snapped up just in time to see Elle’s head be completely engulfed in the pitch black hand of a Nightwalker and squeezed until blood gushed from the cracks. I started to scream.

“You’re worthless! Useless! Just like your _father_.”

My scream was abruptly cut off as my throat seized up. I clawed at it, trying in vain to pry away the invisible, intangible vice that had seized my windpipe, and suddenly I was falling down through water. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fight it, _couldn’t_ —

I woke to sharp pain all along my side and darkness all around me. An involuntary hiss found its way through my clenched teeth as I rolled over onto my back on the wooden floor, and I sucked sweet, precious air into my lungs as I tried to push past my groggy thoughts and figure out where I was.

“You’re mine, you know that, right?”

I tensed at the familiar voice, and my head snapped up and to the side. The moonlight streaming in through the window just barely illuminated where Elle laid on her bed, her eyes shut and face taut with distress. Octavia was leaning over her, a wide grin tugging at her lips as she looked up at me and winked.

“Here we go,” she said, the words beginning in her usual timbre only to quickly shift into something far darker. “Encounter beg—”

Her words cut off, and I stared as she slumped forward lifelessly over Elle in the bed. Cocked to the side where her head had landed, I could just barely make out in the dim room the surprised ‘o’ of her lips and the rectangular hole in the middle of her forehead as blood began to gush out onto Elle’s sheets. A coin was embedded in the wall behind where she had been looming. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it just as keenly as the coins that had begun to orbit around me. Sleep continued to grip Elle, though her slumber was obviously disturbed by nightmares, leaving her unaware of the corpse sprawled over her.

I shuddered involuntarily as I directed more of my coins to rise into the air and join those that had been looping around me. I directed a batch forward to grip and lift the body off of Elle, and to my dismay, it continued to leak blood on the floor as it hung lifelessly in the air.

“Fuck,” I softly swore, rubbing at my eyes to try and clear my head as I propped myself up on the hardwood floor of our room using my elbow. There were probably better words to describe waking up to… this. But whatever they were, my sleep addled mind couldn’t grasp them and stuck to descriptors that came more readily. “ _Fuuuck_ …”

Blood was starting to pool on the ground, and that was going to be an absolute bitch to get out. I checked Elle’s comforter and found it was just as stained, and at a loss for what else to do, I crossed the room and tugged it off of her before throwing it in the corner and dumping the body on it. _It’s probably already ruined anyway_. Elle had already begun to shiver, and I quickly checked her night clothes for blood before gently jostling her. “Elle… Elle, I need you to wake up.”

She jerked a bit underneath my hand, then her eyelids blearily cracked open. She craned her head to look up at me and languidly blinked as I gave her a strained grimace. “There was… a bit of an accident. C’mon over to my bed.”

She dutifully pushed herself up into a seated position, though her movements were slow and drawn out, not that I had expected anything less. It had been days, and both of us had been sleeping fitfully and never for long. Elle had begun to show minor signs of slipping out of her streak of bad days, but she had yet to manage anything better than very short, basic sentences since the swamp. I carefully led her around what blood littered the floor between our beds and did my best to keep myself blocking her line of sight of the corner where the construct laid in a heap.

A traitorous thought crossed my mind that it _could_ have been the real Octavia, since she had escaped and hadn’t been found yet. It was a very distressing notion, and I tried to remind myself it had almost certainly been a construct. I certainly wouldn’t have mourned the bitch who had fucked with my mind dying, but… well, I _really_ wanted the body in the corner to be a construct.

I shoved those thoughts aside as I helped her lie down and get under my own sheets and comforter. For the time being, I settled for dumping my coins on the floor. “Get some sleep while I… clean up, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she mumbled as she snuggled into the depths of the sheets. She said something else as well, but I couldn’t make sense of the words as she succumbed to weariness and trailed off.

 _God, she’s beautiful_ , I thought as I tucked an errant lock of her pale blond hair behind her ear before it could tickle her nose and rouse her again. My hand lingered on her cheek as I continued to stare for a moment, but I eventually pulled away, embarrassed I had dawdled as long as I had. I slipped out of our room in the Flycatcher and carefully closed the door before padding barefoot down the hardwood floor of the hallway to the stairway. Once downstairs, I made my way to the kitchen to find cleaning supplies and flipped on the lights, hissing as the sudden brightness seared my eyes.

“Trouble sleeping again?” I whirled around as I reflexively summoned the knives from the knife block over to me, and whoever had spoken blurted, “Woah, hold up!”

“Don’t fucking move, or I swear you’ll be full of more holes than swiss cheese,” I growled as my eyes struggled to adjust to the new light levels. It took a few moments, but eventually I was able to see it was Seventeen—or Sebastian, or whatever name he went by when he was pretending to be a human. “Oh. It’s _you_ ,” I grumbled as I dumped the knives on the kitchen island in a heap. “Could’ve warned me, asshat.”

“And _you_ could’ve gone with something less cliche than ‘full of more holes than swiss cheese,’” he snarked with a raised eyebrow as he slowly lowered his hands from where he had been holding them up in a gesture to stop.

I sent him a brief glare before ignoring him in favor of peeking under the sink and rummaging through the chemical bottles.

“Looking for anything in particular?”

“I’m fine,” I ground out as I grabbed the bleach with the thought, _It’ll have to do_. I started towards the exit to the foyer where the stairs were only to pause when I realized I needed towels or something as well _._ Not wanting to interact with the android any more than necessary, much less immediately walk back my denial of his offer, I glanced at the clock built into the stove. _4:04_?I thought with a grimace. _Fuck. Everyone’s going to be dead asleep._

“What d’you need?”

 _You don’t have to sound so smug_ , I thought with a grimace. The towels in the bathroom _might_ have been enough, but the construct’s still bleeding body was also still in the room, and frankly the best thing I could do with that was get it away from Elle’s zone of control, so it could begin to fade away. That meant I might get _more_ blood on the floor in the hallway, and I didn’t fancy everyone waking up to me on my hands and knees cleaning up what looked like a gruesome murder scene. “I need…” I started to say before sighing and taking a metaphorical step backwards and starting at the beginning. _Should explain first, I suppose._ “Had a nightmare.”

“Need clorox for that?”

“For fuck’s—” I snapped, my tiredness getting the better of me. “ _No_ , what I _need_ is for you to shut up for a goddamn minute and let me fucking explain.”

To his credit, Seventeen looked a bit chagrined. “Sorry. I just—sorry.”

 _He looks so real_. I glowered at the floor, so I didn’t have to look at him—to think about what was under his skin. “I woke up from a nightmare, and Elle had made a construct of Octavia in her sleep. I… put a coin through its head. Now there’s blood all over her sheets and the floor, and the body… well, it’ll go away after a bit if I get it away from Elle.”

He waited a moment, and when I didn’t add anything else, he commented, “Sounds like a mess. Can definitely get it cleaned up, but it’s going to be tough not to wake up Elle.”

“I know, I know, I just…” I sagged a bit. The adrenaline from my nightmare and waking to _her_ over Elle was beginning to fade, leaving me feeling all at once just how little sleep I’d had—not just tonight, but for days. “I don’t want her to wake up to _that_.”

“I get it,” he agreed. He thought for a moment then added, “Eighteen is otherwise occupied right now, but I’ll grab Thirty-Four and get crackin’. Why don’t you get back to bed?”

My head snapped up in surprise. “What? No, I—”

“Need some more sleep? Why yes, I totally agree.” I fixed him with an unimpressed look, my ire renewed, but before I could ream into him, he pressed on, “Look, even setting aside for the moment how dead on your feet you are right now, you’re human and need to sleep. Thirty-Four and I? We’re not and don’t. From what you’re describing, you’ve got what amounts to a crime scene up there. It seems pretty obvious to me who ought to be cleaning it up, don’t you?”

“Why do you even give a fuck?” I asked. In my head, I had imagined the words coming out heated, but they ended up coming out just plain weary.

“You’re joking, right?” For the first time, _he_ glared at _me_. “I’m choosing to hope that comment is because we don’t know each other very well and not because I’m an android, and if I’m wrong, then hold your tongue because you do _not_ want to admit that to me.”

I bit my tongue to kill off the words that nearly left my tongue.

Unfortunately, something must have shown on my face. His glare turned downright venomous, and he growled, “Son of a… You do. You really think that.”

“I…”

“I can’t believe this. You realize Sixteen _died_ trying to save you, right? Did that mean _nothing_ to you?!” We had been talking quietly, but by the time he was done, Seventeen was bellowing his words. 

_You’re wrong_. “Shut up!” I snapped, planting my hands on the island as I tried to control my breathing. “You don’t know shit about me!”

He laughed, the sound cold and hard. “I know plenty. Let’s start with how you’re an ungrateful little shit! My sister gave her life to save you, or did you forget that? She’s dead because of you, and you think she was never even _alive_!”

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, _shut up_!”

“Why don’t you make me, huh?! Just put one of those knives through my skull, since I’m just a lifeless robot!”

“Both of you, calm down _now_.”

A stony face Melanie, her robe pulled tight around her, finished storming down the stairs and moved into the kitchen with Masuyo hot on her heels. My cousin flitted straight to my side, and it wasn’t until she had pulled me into a tight hug against her that I realized how wet my cheeks were.

Melanie, meanwhile, stopped halfway between us and gave us each a _look_. “Now, I want you each to _calmly_ explain why you’re yelling at each other in the middle of the night. Sebastian, begin if you please.”

“I found her looking for cleaning supplies. She said she made a mess of one of Elle’s illusions and needed to clean up. We were talking about who should do it, which obviously I should, since I don’t need to sleep. One thing lead to another, and I got pissed when I realized she doesn’t think I’m alive.” I glanced his way and saw he looking at me. It might have been my imagination, but I swore his expression had softened just a hair. He sighed and ran a hand through his wiry black hair. “I shouldn’t have reacted so badly, but after Sixteen died, I just… Yeah, sorry.”

_Stop it._

I vaguely heard Melanie say, “And you, June?” but I couldn’t stop looking at Seventeen. He said something as I stared, his brow knit together. Confusion? Anger? 

Did it matter? I wasn’t seeing Seventeen anymore—I was upstairs, watching as the construct leaned over Elle again.

“June?”

It grinned at me just like she had. Stupid, dorky, and entirely too satisfied for the situation.

“J— _no_!!” People and things around me were moving, talking, but it all seemed so far away.

The construct had looked real. So real. Just like all of Elle’s constructs did. Like Seventeen did. Like… Ariel had before I…

“I’ve got it!”

I watched as Ariel tossed her purse aside and tried to pull off her jacket while dodging the melted bullets I sent hurtling at her. She was fast, really fast, but with everything going on, she missed me using the remains of her gun to hit her from behind. I had aimed to disable her, but then Octavia was on her, furious as she smashed her face into the ground. I reached out to stop her, horrified my friend was doing that at all, much less to Ariel.

“Deep breaths, June.”

_“All of you want me to do this.”_

Then I did. I watched with a _pleased smile_ as Octavia smashed Ariel’s face into the ground again. And again. And again.

“It’s safe—you’re safe.”

Eventually her face began to break away, piece by piece, revealing what laid underneath. I had told myself it wasn’t her, that it was just a robot. It had never been alive, had never cared about anything, had hopes and dreams.

And as I tried to convince myself of her inhumanity, that she didn’t couldn’t care about anything, she said to us, _“We will save you.”_

“June,” someone was saying, but they were still so far away. “Can you hear us? What’s wrong?”

“I’m a murderer.” Admitting it aloud, putting words to the pervasive _knowing_ in me, left me simultaneously relieved and repulsed by myself. I had felt something like that only once before on the day I had finally admitted to myself I was a girl, that I had been wasting my life trying to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. Similar… but not the same. This revulsion was deeper, darker—more certain of how ugly I was inside.

“What? No you’re not—!”

“I helped kill Ariel. I killed her, _and I liked it_! I’m a murd—!”

My head snapped to the side and pain blossomed in my cheek. My eyelids fluttered for a moment as the fog I hadn’t felt settling over my thoughts retreated in the wake of the shock, leaving behind the kitchen in sharp, startling clarity. Knives and other silverware were strewn about together with the pots and pans. The microwave had been ripped from where it hung above the oven and tossed to the floor with its glass viewing hole shattered, and the oven looked to be disturbed, sitting somewhat cockeyed and half pulled out of its cutout in the counter. The fridge doors were flung wide, and most of the items that had been in the doors were strewn on the floor like the microwave. Masuyo, Melanie, and Seventeen were peeking out from either side of the wide, open passage from the foyer into the kitchen, having apparently taken cover from the carnage in the kitchen. What caught my eye more than any of that, however, was my mirror image standing in front of me with a contorted, livid expression and her hand still raised from slapping me.

_Aisha…?_

“You fucking _idiot_.”

“Aisha, don’t—” Melanie started to interject.

“Uh uh, nope,” my friend cut her off right back, slashing her hand through the air in Melanie’s direction. “You tried your way, and she nearly gutted all of you _and_ herself by fucking accident. _I’m_ handling this now.”

 _What?_ I thought in surprise. I lifted my hands and looked down, and sure enough, I had a multitude of cuts lining me, weeping blood. Now that I was aware of their existence, I began to feel some of the pain leaking through the numbness still gripping my thoughts, but even then it was still strangely dull and disproportionate to how bad I knew the wounds were. My sleep attire was ruined from the gashes and stains, but I likewise just couldn’t bring myself to care as I stared at the dark red lines littering my skin.

Aisha pointedly jabbed me in the chest with her finger, drawing my attention back up to her. Her ire clearly had not diminished in the slightest, and it was strange yet oddly appropriate to see… ‘me’ so angry at me. “You.” She jabbed me again. “Are.” Again. “A fucking.” Again. “ _Idiot_!”

As I continued to stare at her, she growled, “You were _mastered_ you goddamn moron!” I opened my mouth to say that didn’t matter, and she slapped her hand over it. “No, uh uh, pity party is over. It’s big girl real talk time now. You were mastered. Hell, you weren’t just mastered, you were _Mastered_ with a capital ‘M.’ Boss filled us in all the sordid little details, so let’s review, shall we? That cuntsicle straight up jacked you, Elle, _and_ Zoo dude in the middle of a goddamn crowd, who she _also_ mastered because stop with just three motherfucking people, and she almost got away with it scot-free. Ariel tried to jump ‘em, and shit went sideways. _It happens_. I thought you’da been acquainted with that having lived a few weeks in the Bay, much less having lived your entire life in New York Motherfucking City. Example right off the top’a my head: The night I showed you my powers, or do you not remember that shit?”

“I don’—!” I tried to say around her hand, my words muffled.

“Rhe-fucking-torical question. I. Am. Not. _Finished_. Now, _as I was saying_. Shit went sideways. Ain’t your fucking fault it happened, and it sure as shit ain’t your fault you were forced to participate. That’s how Masters work. They get in your head and twist shit ‘til you don’t know your brother from a ganger! ‘But oh, Aisha!’ you say, ‘you don’t know what it’s like!’ Well joke’s on you, ‘cause I know all about that mindfuckery _firsthand_.”

_No… Not you too?_

Shadows engulfed her as her body twisted back into herself. “See, wannabe Empire goons ‘n’ capes, they gotta go through initiation. Kill somebody whose skin ain’t pearly white ‘n’ _pure_. Once upon a time, yours truly and her bro went out to get some nice lunch. He’d just gotten a job, and we wanted to celebrate. Good, innocent shit. Then on our way there, not even five minutes away from his apartment, _bam_! Two on two. Maybe that sounds fair? Problem is, one’s a vet cape in fucking body armor who knows goddamn kung fu ‘cause he sucked that shit outta some blackbelt who probs don’t even know how to throw a punch now. And let’s not forget the fuckface Master who could make you see and hear whatever he wanted just by _touching_ you. 

“I remember their powers _all too well_ , since I _became_ them after wannabe tricked me into shanking my bro a few times with the knife I got to defend myself. He died, bleeding out in dirty ass alley ‘cause of me, and I got powers as consolation prize. Oh, and let’s not forget suddenly knowing exactly how to lynch someone and what it feels like to jack off to it. Fucking _great_ , right? And now every time I use my powers—every _single goddamn_ time—I gotta remember the only reason I have ‘em is because I _killed Brian_.”

I couldn’t have dragged my eyes away from Aisha’s if I had tried. “Please tell me this is a joke. Aisha, please tell me this is a sick joke.”

“Told you already, it’s time for real talk,” she steadily, quietly replied. “Now look, I ain’t trying to make light of what you went through. Shit was twisted, and nobody should have to deal with that. _Nobody_. But that ain’t no excuse for losin’ your shit on somebody who ain’t the one that did it to you and damn near killin’ ‘em while you break their shit.”

I was shaking, finally beginning to properly feel the pain, yet strangely… I felt a bit better. The numbness in my body and the fog over my thoughts had seeped away and left behind ice in my veins and a cold, cutting clarity. “Sorry.”

“Accepted, but it ain’t just me you should be saying that to.”

My head jerked a bit in a nod. All the icy cold clarity in the world couldn’t keep at bay the weariness from the late hour and the emotional drain from my breakdown, not to mention my fading adrenaline and blood loss. I looked past her and noticed that at some point during her story Gregor and Newter had woken up as well, leaving most of the house quietly watching from the foyer. I moved to step towards them and immediately lost my footing, but Aisha caught me before I could fall. I was shivering uncontrollably now, and I couldn’t get my legs to cooperate, but thankfully Masuyo, Melanie, and Sev— _Sebastian_ moved forward to join us while Gregor and Newter hung back and watched.

Masuyo swept me up into yet another hug, apparently uncaring that I was bleeding all over, but it was Sebastian I looked to as I muttered, “Sorry I fucked up the kitchen and… y’know.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. After a moment, his mouth snapped shut, and he ran his hand through his hair before finally saying, “You’re full of trouble, you know that?”

 _Well you’re not wrong._ “Yeah.”

“Go to bed kid. We’ll…. figure this out.”

Masuyo tugged me towards the stairs, and I let her. The stairs were awful to climb up, since my legs felt like lead, but she hooked my arm over her shoulder and gave me enough lift support to manage. For a brief second, I wondered where she’d learned to do that, then I remembered she had been a nurse at Bay General for a while. Before long, we were slipping back into mine and Elle’s room, and to my dismay, Elle was sitting upright on my bed with her knees pulled into her chest. Fireflies hung in the air, illuminating the room enough to see the… corpse was gone. So was the blood, though the hardwood floor appeared to be stained where the puddle had been, and the comforter I had tossed in the corner somehow still looked grody.

 _Goddammit. Shouldn’t be surprised I woke her up too_. “Hey, Elle,” I croaked, my throat feeling tight. “Sorry for… all’a this.”

Masuyo moved me towards Elle’s bed, and my eyes unconsciously gravitated up to the coin still stuck in the wall over it as she gingerly set me down on Elle’s bed. “Sit tight and don’t move. I’m going to grab my kit, so I can treat all these. You’ll be lucky if half of this doesn’t end up infected.” Before I could muster up a reply, she was gone.

I turned my attention back to the other side of the room. Elle was gripping her legs tightly, and her eyes were open, staring off towards what might have been the kitchen. I felt something metal grow into existence on the bed and settle against my hip, and I looked down and found a small, strangely shaped flask nestled against me. I blinked, uncomprehending for several moments as I tried to piece together what it was. It wasn’t all metal—just its stopper, which looked to made of pure gold. The rest looked to be glass, and through the transparent shell I could see a clear liquid of some kind that sloshed around as I poked at it. Just before I resolved myself to ask Elle what she’d spun into existence, I felt and saw more metal appear on the bed. A sword and shield together with a lonely dagger and a bow, quiver, and horn. The strange assortment of items brought the association together for me.

“Thanks for the thought, Elle,” I said with a small smile as I ran my fingers along the smooth exterior of the cordial. It was a sweet thought, even though her power couldn’t really make a healing elixir. Before long Masuyo returned with her kit, and when she looked at the array of items on the bed then to me in confusion, I explained, “They’re from the first book we read together. Long story.”

“Oh, well, I’ll just… move them aside then?” She didn’t wait for an answer, already having begun cautiously pushing them further down the comforter, and before long she was settled beside me. She helped me tug off what remained of my shirt and bra and pushed up the hem of my shorts, then she started patching me up. Almost all of the bleeding had already stopped, so she started on the cuts that hadn’t yet clotted.

“Hey, um…” 

Masuyo’s gaze flicked up to me briefly before she returned her attention to what she was doing. “Yeah?”

The words were there, poised on my tongue, but I couldn’t manage to voice them. Instead, I muttered, “Never mind.”

She paused and turned her full attention to me. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

 _No_. “I know,” I lied. “Was just a random thought, and it’s already gone. Too tired.”

“If you’re sure,” she allowed as she resumed applying whatever the hell liquid was that foamed on wounds and made them sting like hell. “When I’m done here, we’ll have to get you some clean sheets to sleep on.”

“Sure,” I distractedly replied, my thoughts still caught on what I had almost asked her. What makes something… alive? What did it really mean to be conscious? Ariel had never seemed ‘fake,’ nor had Sebastian… and neither had Elle’s constructs. The first night I had woken to a construct in our room I had learned just how _real_ they could be. And just as easily as Elle had breathed life into that wolf, she had dispersed it back into nothingness when Melanie told her to reign in her power. If Ariel and Sebastian were alive… had real feelings… What did that say about Elle’s constructs?

I desperately hoped she was simply moving her creations to and from the world she created. Only one of us should have to be a murderer.

“Okay, you’re all set for now,” Masuyo said some time later, drawing my out of my gloomy musings. “I’m going to ask Sebastian where some clean sheets are. Be right back.”

She started to leave again with her kit in hand, and I was brought up short by the sight of wounds on her too. “Wait,” I said, and she paused halfway out the door. “You’re hurt.”

A sad smile crossed her face. “Was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

“‘Cause I did it, right?” A tight feeling of wretchedness wound itself up in my gut at the thought. “I’m… I’m really sorry.”

“Hey now,” she soothed, making her way back in and pulling me into another damnable hug. “Don’t even worry about it. Compared to you, I was barely hit at all.”

It wasn’t fair how good that hug made me feel. I was a merc, willing to hurt and save people alike for money, and I was a murderer despite what Aisha said. It was… better that it had been forced on me, but I still knew what it felt like to enjoy watching someone die. It wasn’t fair for me to also enjoy being comforted by her. Had I made the wrong decision, accepting her worming her way into my life like this?

“Hey,” she said, dragging me out of my thoughts. “I can practically hear you thinking in there. Stop it. You need sleep, okay?”

Dark thoughts or no, I still failed to stifle a yawn at the thought of sleep. Even killers got sleepy.

“I’ll go see about those sheets.” She pulled back. I blinked, then she was gone.

Now that we were alone, Elle extracted one of her hands from where she had been gripping her legs and reached out towards me. _“Come here,”_ I could practically hear her say.

I had no doubt that Elle had seen what happened downstairs. She wouldn’t have heard it, but her power let her feel everything in her range—everything she could twist and mold. She had watched me butcher myself… and she still reached out?

“Not sick of me yet, huh?”

She reached out with her other hand as well.

 _I don’t deserve this at all,_ I thought as I pulled the coins on the floor over to me and used them to drift across the floor. _Don’t deserve you._

I would have said as much… but then, I already had after the swamp. And she had hugged me anyway.

_Damnable hugs. I think I have a problem._

My eyes had begun to droop, and Elle scooted back a bit before twisting to lay down on her side. I laid down too and slid next to her, so my back was to her chest. It crossed my mind that though we had slept together before, this was the first time we had since I had asked her out. It should have felt important, noteworthy. Instead, I was just tired and sore. 

She wrapped an arm around me to tug me closer and sleepily whispered, “Night.” The word tickled my ear.

“Sweet dreams,” I whispered back as I faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had a totally warm and fluffy Christmas chapter to release today, but alas, this chapter takes place at the tail end of October (October 22, 2010, to be precise), so we're a ways off from Christmas. And no real spoilers, but there's gonna be sooo much shit June and the rest of FLC have to get through between now and Christmas 2010. On a related note, this chapter takes place in the early hours of the morning on the day the second scene of 3.y happens. Also, the story of Luster begins on September 27, 2010, so geez a lot has happened in less than a month.
> 
> Yuletide greetings to all! And a Happy New Year to boot, since the next chapter will be reaching your screens the first day of finally not 2020. It's been a rough ride for us all, for some more than others (I count myself quite lucky over all, and I'm super grateful for that), so I hope 2021 kicks total ass to make up for 2020. Here's to vaccines and a less bad President in the White House!


	31. Snare 4.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm 95% sure I'm in the clear with the rules here, since this avoids direct graphic descriptions of anything, but if I did make a blunder and need to PG-ify something, then please let me know, mods!

“Hnnn,” I groaned as someone began to shine a light on me. I wiggled away from it a bit, hoping to resume sleeping, and I felt my pillow shift under me a bit in response, the gentle rising and fall—

_Wait, what?_

My eye that wasn’t busy being buried in my strangely moving pillow cracked open. What had roused me initially was readily apparent: A beam of sunlight was streaming in through our window onto the spot a few centimeters from my face, and judging by the angle of it, it was getting to be somewhat late in the morning. As for my moving ‘pillow,’ I pulled back further to look up and found somewhere in the middle of the night I had apparently claimed Elle as my pillow. She was wide awake as well, and I felt my cheeks heat up when her eyes flicked down to mine and her lips curled up into a smile.

What do you say to your girlfriend—wait, _was_ she my girlfriend? Should I ask her? I mean, taking her out on a disastrous date and her saying she was fine with more had to mean something, right? But at the same time, I shouldn’t, like, jump to assumptions either. So… yeah, I should ask her. Easy, no problem. I’ll just use words. Out of my mouth. Like, that talking thing I do every— _For fuck’s sake, June, grow a pair and just say something!_

A laugh escaped me before I knew it, which prompted Elle to ask, “What’s funny?”

“Nothing important,” I replied, a smile to match hers finding its way onto my face. _Just the irony of thinking ‘grow a pair’ when I just got rid of mine._ “Did I wake you?”

“No,” she denied. “Been awake.”

“You could have gotten up,” I remarked as I reoriented myself so I wasn’t half pinning her down. Doing so caused the comforter to slip off of my shoulder, and I shivered a bit as the cold air of the room hit my— _OmigodI’mbasicallynakedwhatwasIthinking?!_

I had gone as still as stone, completely petrified as my mind kicked into panic mode on overdrive, but if Elle noticed, then she didn’t remark on it. Instead, she shook her head, and some of her hair fell forward, obscuring her eyes as she quietly replied, “Liked the view.”

Her words didn’t dispel the frantic thumping of my heart in my chest, but I thought that had more to do with the resurgence of warmth in my cheeks. Before I quite realized what I was doing, I had reached forward and carefully brushing back some of her hair. Her cheeks were flushed, and my fingertips felt warm as they grazed lightly across her skin while I tucked the hair securely behind her ear. I gulped as I tried to rally what courage I could. “I do too…” I murmured before abruptly stammering, “T-The view of _you_ I mean! ‘Cause you’re, y’know, really, _really_ pretty, and I…”

 _When did we get so close?_ I thought in surprise as my eyes shifted from her eyes to her lips and back. _Fuck me, am I supposed to kiss her now or_ —?

Apparently the answer was _yes_ , since Elle took the initiative and leaned forward to close the gap between us. After the second surge of panic died down, my eyes fluttered closed as I settled into it. She had morning breath from not brushing her teeth yet, a failing I likely shared on my end, and I had the sinking suspicion that we probably looked ridiculous from how obviously inexperienced both of us were with kissing someone. Even still, I couldn’t quite help the goofy grin when we pulled back for air and softly clunked our foreheads together.

“That was…”

“Nice?” she hopefully supplied, looking more than a bit nervous.

“ _Very_ ,” I agreed, gently nuzzling her nose with my own before diving back in for more. Elle shifted next to me, and I found myself rolling onto my back as she maneuvered her leg over my thighs, breaking our locked lips only briefly as she settled herself over my pelvis before trying to resume. Unfortunately, the movement sent a flare of pain shooting through my body after the abuses I had put it through last night, and though I tried to suppress it, I couldn’t entirely stop a hiss of pain from escaping through my teeth.

“Sorry,” Elle said with a cringe. “I wasn’t think—”

I interrupted her by snaking my hands up into her long hair, gripping her head, and gently but firmly tugging her down until she was a hair’s breadth away. I imagined you could cook meat on my cheeks, I was blushing so furiously, and I suspected she could feel the heat radiating off of me. “I want to keep going.”

Whatever reservations she had were dispelled, and I was swept up in a swirling maelstrom of sensations once more. Not all of them were entirely pleasant, as the bandaged cuts all over me made their presence known repeatedly, but Elle’s every touch was so damn intoxicating it more than made up for it. I shakily exhaled as her hands started to—

The door suddenly swung inward, and we both froze as Newter stepped in, saying, “Hey you two, we’re— Woah, what did I just— _hey_!”

“Get out!” I snarled at him for interrupting the moment, pelting him with coins as Elle hastily tugged the comforter up over us. “ _Get out_!!”

“Hey, maybe hang a sock on the door or something next time!” he loudly yelled back through the safety of the now closed door.

“Maybe learn how to knock next time, asshat!” I yelled right back before flopping my head back down on the mattress with a groan. I was more than a bit letdown when Elle rolled back off of me, but when I saw her eyes clenched tightly shut, I bit my tongue to kill off the complaint that had nearly rolled out of me. “Are you okay?”

She minutely nodded but didn’t verbally respond or open her eyes either. I suspected that meant she wasn’t, not really, but she would be with time. I pushed my disappointment aside for the moment and settled down on my side before scooching a bit closer to her. When she didn’t respond negatively, I carefully snaked my arm over her belly and pulled us together in a gentle hug.

We laid there without speaking for a while, and though the muscles around her eyes relaxed to the point she wasn’t squeezing her eyes shut so much as just leaving them closed, she didn’t say or do anything either. After a bit of time passed in silence, I tentatively broke it, asking, “Elle? Are you sure you’re okay?”

A soft sigh escaped her as her eyelids slid open. “Doing my exercises.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to distract,” I muttered as I started to pull away, only to be brought up short as she grabbed my hand before I could get away entirely.

“A good distraction,” she disagreed, the small, tentative smile finding its way to her lips once more as she wiggled her other arm under me to pull me closer. 

“Oh yeah? I think Melanie would disagree,” I joked as I tucked myself fully into her, laying my head on her chest just as I had woken up earlier.

“True,” she agreed.

Unfortunately, it seemed we were going to be intruded upon again, since I felt the metal chain of Masuyo’s necklace reach the top of the stairs and start towards our door. “Company incoming,” I pointed out with a sigh.

“Masuyo,” she agreed, clearly seeing her approach through her own power. I strangely felt a bit… pleased—at least, I thought that was the best word for what I felt—that I had distracted her thoroughly enough that she hadn’t noticed Newter approaching earlier. That was certainly why _I_ had missed the metal button of his jeans.

Just to be safe, I pushed the entire doorknob mechanism into elsewhere. My precaution proved unnecessary though when my cousin knocked quietly on the door, demonstrating far more tact than our orange-skinned teammate. Then again, he _had_ announced loudly enough for the whole house to hear the nature of what we’d been up to in here, so she certainly had more warning than he had. “Are you two… decent?”

“One sec,” I called out as I delicately and regretfully extricated myself from Elle, who was still fully dressed in her own sleep attire. My sleeper shorts definitely needed to be replaced, just like the tattered remnants of my shirt and bra Masuyo had helped me remove before bandaging me last night, but they would do until I could get to the shower. I tugged an old shirt over them, one of the only ones I had from prior to my change that still more or less fit, and crossed over to the door while bringing the doorknob back from elsewhere.

I had half expected Masuyo to look uncomfortable when I tugged the door open, but she looked _sly_ if anything. “And how are _you_ this morning, June?”

“Peachy,” I flatly drawled, leaning against the door frame to try and block her view into the room. I almost immediately had to shift position because it made the pain in my upper arm from my cuts flare, though I did my best to hide it. “Can we help you with something? We’re kind of busy in here.”

“So I heard. How are your injuries doing?” she asked, her eyes flicking to and fro over me, checking the bandages littering my exposed skin.

“They’re fine. _I’m_ fine,” I tried to argue only to find Elle coming up behind me. 

She reached out and gently examined my arm with a frown. “They don’t look fine,” she softly countered.

Now that I looked at them properly in the more substantial light streaming in from the hallway, they really didn’t look very good. Though none I could see were leaking blood, there were dark red blotches over the spots the actual cuts lied that marred the otherwise pristine white of the bandages. “I mean it,” I insisted anyway. “Totally fine.”

“I restocked my supplies this morning,” Masuyo said, ignoring me in favor of speaking to Elle. “I’ll get your girl fixed up.”

“I don’t—”

“Yes, please,” Elle replied, plowed right over my objection. She tilted her head inquiringly and asked, “Newter?”

“I’m right here—”

“He and Gregor were going through the Flycatcher’s movie collection, and he came up to invite you two to watch Ocean’s Eleven with us all.”

“Sounds lovely. June?”

I stared at Elle with incredulous exasperation then leaned in to whisper in her ear, “But what about... you know?”

She smiled and turned her head, so her mouth was at my ear as well. “Be nice. Bandages and movie, then…” She trailed a finger down my side, ghosting over my hip just out of Masuyo’s sight. “… I’ll make it up to you.”

A light shiver of excitement ran through me, and I murmured back, “I’ll hold you to that,” before turning my attention back to Masuyo, who once again looked _entirely_ too sly. “Alright, where do you want me, Doc?”

“Not a doctor,” she stressed as she turned to walk down the hall. “C’mon down to my room, and we’ll get you all patched up.”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” I quipped right back, probably a bit too pleased I had found a nickname for her she didn’t like. I turned back to Elle and asked, “See you downstairs?”

She leaned forward and gave me a quick, heated kiss that she cut off entirely too soon. “A preview,” she remarked when a disappointed whine wormed its way out of me. “If you’re good.”

“I’ve gotta be good now to be bad later, huh?”

“Naturally. Now go get fixed up.”

“Yes ma’am!” I joked with a mock salute as I moved to follow my cousin, floating a small handful of coins from my supply in our room up over Elle’s head, so I would have something to try and keep my mind occupied.

Masuyo had left her door open, but I still rapped my knuckles on the wood and loudly called out, “Coming in!” before waiting a second and actually moving inside.

“No need to shout. I _did_ leave it open for a reason,” she pointed out distractedly as she continued setting out bandages, gauze, antiseptic, and god knows what else all of that was.

“Yeah, but I wanted Newter to hear. Rub his nose in it a bit.”

“Someone’s a bit salty.”

I shut the door and started peeling off my sleep clothes as I debated how to respond, since I wasn’t sure how open Elle wanted to be about our—whatever it was we had. _Then again, Newter did already let the cat out of the bag_. “Yes, well, I was having a _very good_ time.”

“Yes, I noticed.” She turned to flash me a smirk over her shoulder. “You were a bit flushed when you got to the door.”

“Whatever.” I flopped down an empty patch of her bed and tried to hide my embarrassment by pretending to be focused on the coins I had dancing around just under the ceiling. For the first time in a while I pondered whether this was what it would have been like to grow up with a… normal family. Awkward conversations like this sounded a lot better than the constant walking on eggshells it had been with Mom when she had actually bothered to pay me any attention.

“I’ll start down here,” she said as she dragged over a chair. She started to peel off the bandages on my legs then paused and asked, “Can you lift your legs up a bit?”

I obliged her and moved a pair of coins to each of my heels, so I didn’t have to bother holding them up myself. “Hey, Masuyo?”

“Hm?”

I winced as one of the cuts stung when she rubbed something into it. “Did you have any siblings growing up?”

“I lived with other kids my age, at some of the homes, but I never thought of any of them as my siblings, not really.” Her hands stilled. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I guess. I hung out with some kids, but Mom didn’t like it when I brought any of them over.” My lips curled into a sneer. “Really didn’t like it. Always got scared one of ‘em would see some of her drug shit and say something. Didn’t give a rat’s ass about our place looking like a dumpster fire though. Only cared about making sure cops didn’t come knocking.”

“That sounds awful.” I craned my head to check her expression for pity but found she was… angry?

“You… okay?” I tentatively asked, wondering if I had hit on something sensitive.

She noticed me looking, and the anger disappeared in an instant, leaving behind calm neutrality. Was that the sort of thing you had to learn in foster homes? I had a shitty poker face—I wouldn’t have made it far. “It’s nothing, really. Just a passing thought.” A smirk found its way onto her face again as she remarked, “I am glad you turned out to be a lesbian, by the way. I somehow don’t see you as the type to carefully avoid getting pregnant.”

“Yuck, no thanks,” I remarked with a shiver, the gesture only half faked. “Though I will say that when I first joined the team, I _did_ think Newter was…” What _had_ I seen in him? He was a good friend, but I was coming up with nothing when I tried to recall why I had even passingly been interested. “He was just cool, I guess,” I settled on. “It’s kinda funny to think about now, since it never would have worked.”

“Getting intimate with someone you can’t touch would be a bit difficult,” she agreed. “Definitely hard to picture you two together with how clingy you are around Elle all the time.”

“I am _not_ clingy. I just… enjoy being with her.”

“Potato, puh-tah-to.”

“Well what about you, huh?” I countered. “You call Sabah, like, every other day, and you’re always texting her. Seems pretty clingy to me!”

She disappointingly didn’t rise to the bait. “Eh, I guess it takes one to know one,” she agreed with a shrug. “I’ve only got a few good things going on in my life, so I guess I’m keeping them close.”

“You’re no fun,” I pouted. I yawned and flopped back down on the bed. “You’d think I wouldn’t be tired after waking up so late…”

“Blood loss will do that to you. You didn’t lose enough to justify a transfusion or anything, but it’s gonna take you a bit of time to recover.”

“Already recovering from one thing,” I darkly noted. “Just one more thing I’ve fucked up…”

“Setting aside for the moment you blaming yourself for having a panic attack, which you’re definitely not at fault for, are you really trying to blame yourself for what happened with the Eight?”

“We wouldn’t’ve been at the Zoo if I hadn’t came up with the idea, and I didn’t manage to k-kill Octavia before she got us.”

She stopped what she was doing and pulled herself upright, giving me her full, undivided attention. “June, you can’t blame yourself for going to the _zoo_. That’s a normal thing that people do. It’s like… I dunno, going to the bank and somebody tried to rob it. You wouldn’t blame yourself for that, would you? And I’m sure you did everything you could to stop Octavia.”

I glared up at the ceiling through watery eyes, my coins vibrating with agitated energy. “I shouldn’t have hesitated. I tried to choke her first, and I got her unaware, but she broke free because of Bard. If I’d tried to crush her with that beam first, if I’d just tried to k-kill her from the start… Elle wouldn’t have gone through that nightmare.”

“Killing isn’t the only answer.”

“It was the best one for dealing with that bitch!”

“Was it now?” she retorted with a raised eyebrow. “Funny, I think I have a better answer.”

I scoffed. “And how would you know that when you don’t even know what happened there? I haven’t told you what happened, and Elle’s been basically non-verbal until last night, so I know you didn’t hear anything from her.”

“You’re right—I don’t know what happened, but I bet I don’t need to, not exactly. See, people left that auditorium. One, the person in charge of Clutch, did some digging and found the police reports. Everybody’s version of what happened was different, but they all left.”

“Is there a point I’m supposed to be getting?”

She leaned forward and gave me an intent look. “The best thing you could have done? _Wait_. All you needed to do was _nothing_ , and Octavia would probably have never known you and Elle were parahumans.”

“Whatever,” I grunted, though inside, my mind racing. _Was_ she right? In hindsight… Octavia had checked for parahumans in the crowd because I attacked her. Would she have thought to do so otherwise? She was so scatterbrained that I really doubted it. _If that’s the case… then I’m even more at fault that I originally thought. Fucking great._

“In any case,” Masuyo said when it became apparent I wasn’t going to say anything further, “my point is you always have a choice. There might not always be a pacifist choice, but you’re never locked into one path. Try not to get so swept up in things you don’t see it, okay?”

“I’ll try,” I replied with a sigh as she began treating my wounds again. “And, um, Masuyo?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks…” _For giving a shit._

I hissed as she started cleaning the next cut, and she chuckled. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.

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*

♦ Private messages from Panacea (Verified Cape) (New Wave):

[10/15/2010]

Panacea: Hey, just checking in to make sure you’re eating normally again now.

Meteoric_Rise: yup, all good over here

Panacea: Well good. Anything interesting happening at Palanquin? Trying to do my homework and dying from boredom over here.

Meteoric_Rise: we’re actually not in the bay right now. 

Panacea: Oh? On a job or something?

Meteoric_Rise: can't really talk about anything, or faultline would be pissed

Panacea: No worries, I get it. How’s that going then?

Meteoric_Rise: it’s okay, i guess? we haven’t done too much here yet. just got here yesterday lol.

Panacea: I could see being too tired from traveling the first day, but did you really sit around all day in your hotel room or wherever?

Panacea: Sorry, just hit me how that came across. You don’t need to tell me details about where you are. I was just pointing out you didn’t seem the type to just laze about.

Meteoric_Rise: all good, i get it. fl had us doing training stuff for most of today, so it was pretty boring. last night was different though.

Panacea: Don’t keep a girl in suspense—what happened?

Meteoric_Rise: you gotta promise to not laugh.

Panacea: Uh, okay? I promise.

Meteoric_Rise: the crew and i watched star wars… it was my first time.

Panacea: Wow. Really?

Meteoric_Rise: you promised not to laugh!

Panacea: And I’m not. I’m just honestly surprised you’ve never watched any of them even once. Which episodes?

Meteoric_Rise: 4-6. whole thing came up because shade called me a ‘padawan,’ and i admitted not knowing what one was. so then we watch these movies, and it turns out they don’t even use that word!

Panacea: Yeah, I think that didn’t come up until #1, I think? Been a while, so I’m not 100% sure.

Meteoric_Rise: still don’t understand that numbering scheme. so stupid.

Panacea: Well that aside, what did you think?

Meteoric_Rise: they were pretty good. the vader thing threw me for a loop

Panacea: Yeah that’s classic.

Panacea: Hey, gtg, Vicky’s bugging me to get off of my phone again. I’ll catch you later, yeah?

Meteoric_Rise: sure thing. night, dr. amy!

Panacea: You’re ridiculous, you know that?

[10/16/2010]

Panacea: hey, whoever this is, leave ames the fuck alone

Panacea: this is vicky, her sister. you've sent her, like, a hundred messages. back off, you stalker creep.

Panacea: i've got your username. i'm gonna look you up, and if i find out you’ve kept doing this, you’ll regret it

Panacea: OMG, I am so, so sorry! I was in the shower, and Vicky knows the pin to my phone. I’m changing it right now.

Meteoric_Rise: it’s okay. i'm only just seeing this anyway. she's the real creep, stealing people’s phones and looking at their private messages.

Panacea: Still… Ugh. Now Vicky’s giving me a death glare. I’ll catch you later, okay?

Meteoric_Rise: sure thing. hopefully will be going to the zoo with labs tomorrow.

[10/18/2010]

Panacea: Sorry again about the other day. Vicky has been suffocating with how she’s been hovering over me non-stop. She’s gotten it in her head that you’re corrupting me or something.

Panacea: That’s why I couldn’t message you yesterday either. She insisted on doing a trip to the mall and dragged me all over. Wouldn’t let me out of her sight. Then get this: She tried to set me up on another blind date with some guy.

Panacea: I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I was so fed up with her by that point, and I don’t have the you-know-what looming over me anymore, so I finally broke it to her that I’m gay. She had a conniption in the middle of the food court, and people caught it all on video, so of course it’s everywhere online…

Panacea: Carol was pissed at us both but blamed me the most, saying I provoked Vicky! Can you believe it?!

Panacea: She turned off the data on my phone as punishment, said I could only use voice for New Wave business, like we’ve done any of that shit in ages…

Panacea: Only reason I can even message you right now is because I’m using Arcadia’s computer lab over my lunch break.

Panacea: Sorry for the rant. How was the zoo? Guessing “labs” is Labyrinth?

Panacea: Managed to get out of the house to meet up with the excuse I was meeting a classmate at the library for a project.

Panacea: How was your day? I’m still getting treated like a child over here. It’s killing me.

Panacea: When you’re back in the Bay again, can we meet up? I need an excuse to get out of the house more. I don’t want to be at the hospital more than I already am, and I can only use the “I’m going to the library” card so much.

[10/19/2010]

Panacea: You okay? Vicky’s threats aren’t bothering you, right?

Panacea: Oh shit, just reread my messages from yesterday. I wasn’t trying to ask you out on a date or anything, if you thought that’s what I meant about meeting up! Just a friends thing!

Panacea: Like, you can bring Shade, if she’s chill. I already know her face anyway.

Panacea: And I’m sorry if my venting was too much. Just say the word, and I’ll stop.

Panacea: Out of the house again. Vicky tried to rope me into yet another double date, but she does seem to at least be taking the whole gay thing okay? Gotta take the minor victories where I can get them, I suppose. It’s allegedly gonna be a girl this time, though who only knows who she managed to talk into doing this…

Panacea: Okay, it’s clear you need your space so I’m going to just shut up. Sorry.

[10/21/2010]

Panacea: Ugh, I’m sorry. I just need to know: Is this a “you need space” thing, or are you ghosting me? Please let me know if it’s the first…

[10/22/2010]

Panacea: Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Please don’t hate me, but uh, I started to freak out because I thought something might be wrong…

Panacea: I tried to figure out where you might be, but I didn’t know anything beyond there being a zoo. So I was going back through our history and saw the message where you asked about the Eight.

Panacea: I looked for their thread on the off chance your job was hunting them down or something, and I saw they were caught after attacking the library at University of Pennsylvania.

Panacea: There wasn’t much there, so I begged Vicky to get Gallant to tell us what he could find out.

Panacea: I saw the report from the Philly Protectorate. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.

[10/23/2010]

Panacea: Please give me a call as soon as you read this. My number is 508-746-7652.

*

♦ Private messages from Glory Girl (Verified Cape) (New Wave):

[10/16/2010]

Glory Girl: told you i would look you up. never contact ames again, you bitch. i dunno if you’re the real meteor or not, and i don’t really care either way. i'll fuck you up all the same.

Glory Girl: and if i find out you’re actually a master and behind her change in behavior, then you better hope i never find you.

[10/20/2010]

Glory Girl: good, you have some sense in you. i know she’s probably messaging you a bunch, but ignore them. she'll get over you eventually.

[10/22/2010]

Glory Girl: gallant just told us what happened… i still don’t like you, but nobody should have to go through that.

Glory Girl: give yourself up to the prt and get some help or something. just leave us out of it, okay?

*

Elle looked up at me with a look of concern as she handed my phone back to me and remarked, “Should tell Melanie.”

“You think?” I whispered back. The rest of the van wasn’t paying us any attention for one reason or another, since everyone was focused on their own thing as we drove back to the Bay. I had really only been on PHO to check if anything big had happened while we were away but had glanced at my PMs when I noticed I had a bunch waiting for me. To say my PM history had become a shitstorm seemed like an under exaggeration.

“Panacea’s acting weird. She wanted to know.”

I started to run my hand through my hair only to remember Elle had braided it earlier and carefully pulled my fingers back out. “Right, you’re right.” I sighed and added, “It really hadn’t been anything other than basic messages before that. Nothing weird or funky. Checking in on how my body was doing after the changes, casual conversation, that sort of thing.”

“Of course. Tell her now?”

I glanced up at where Masuyo was propped up against the side of the van, her face pressed against the glass as she lightly snored. “When we get back. No sense in bothering everyone right this second.”

“Okay.” She snaked her fingers in between mine and gave me a small squeeze, which I returned. “Should tell Amy you’ve already got a girlfriend too.”

I leaned over and briefly nuzzled her cheek before setting my head down on her shoulder. “That too. You’re not jealous, are you?”

She took a moment to consider that, then responded. “I think I am.”

That caught me by surprise. “Oh?”

“Not entirely sure. This is new to me.”

She had certainly been jealous of someone before, but it was pretty clear she meant jealous in regards to a relationship. “Me too. To be honest, I might not have even noticed she was thinking of me like that if she hadn’t basically admitted it.” She reached over and ran a hand down my leg, and I shivered at the pleasant feeling that elicited. “Mmm, speaking of new things, can I just say again how _amazing_ last night was?”

Elle’s cheeks darkened, but she didn’t look away as she simply replied, “Good.”

I lifted my head and moved my lips to her ear. “Your place or mine tonight?” I joked in my best approximation of a sultry whisper I could manage. Apparently I managed something halfway decent, since her cheeks went scarlet, and her fingers tightened around my upper leg.

“Get a room, you two,” Newter quipped without bothering to look up from his handheld gaming console.

I rolled my eyes but regretfully pulled back for now. There was always later. I shot Amy a text explaining I couldn’t talk right now but was okay, then I jumped back onto PHO to check the Brockton Bay boards like I originally intended.

As for Newter… I still couldn’t remember what I had ever seen in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Year, same Luster—complete with posts at absurdly late hours of the night. As ever, I haven't gone to sleep, so it's totally still Friday. I met my posting deadline, shush!
> 
> Wow, that first scene got away from me a little at the end of it. Originally I was going to show June and Masuyo going down to join the rest of the crew who wasn't out (this is the day when the second scene of 3.y occurs), but I had to cut that for time's sake. This chapter's going out late enough as it is! But hey, June and Elle are officially girlfriends now! And I'm certain everyone is going to take that well—no issues whatsoever! 
> 
> And now, I must go to sleep. Happy New Year, everyone! Except for you, 2020—you can go eat a dick.


	32. Snare 4.3

Melanie minutely sighed as she read through the last of the PMs from Amy and Vicky. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I wish you had alerted me earlier when Panacea first began messaging you, but it’s better you did so now than not at all.”

“No problem,” I replied breathing out a small sigh myself, though mine was of relief. _I half expected her to blow up about this…_ “I’ll just be going then?”

“So eager to escape my den?” she lightly quipped, leaning forward so her elbows rested on the heavy oak desk in the middle of her office. “How are things?”

 _Man, fucking jinxed it._ “They’re… um…”

“I certainly hope you’re not about to say ‘fine,’” she interjected with an expression that made it clear she knew I _was_ , in fact, going to say that. She pointedly looked at my collarbone, where a bandage was jutting out past where the neckline of my shirt covered. “I should think we are all aware things are not ‘fine.’”

I ground my teeth just a bit at that and saucily bit out, “What do you want me to say?”

“I’d like you to tell me how things are with you,” she evenly rejoined. “There’s no shame in feeling out of sort right now. You’ve been through a traumatic experience, and that’s setting aside this new change in your relationship with Elle. These are big changes, and part of my job is making sure everyone on the crew has what they need.”

I could feel my body tensing, and it was a struggle to not let it show. I didn’t _want_ to talk about it. I wanted to _forget all about_ Octavia, and I didn’t want to talk about my love life with my friend slash boss. I had been an anxious wreck when I talked to Gregor about it at the Flycatcher, and that was bad enough. Melanie paid me for our jobs and housed me in a building she owned, so the last thing I wanted was to fall apart in front of her—any more than I already had, at least. Her seeing what happened yesterday morning was bad enough.

“I’m sorry for what happened at the Flycatcher, but I’m… I’ve got it under control—won’t happen again.” I wasn’t sure I did, honestly, but what else could I say?

Melanie looked about as convinced as I was, but surprisingly let the matter go. “Very well. Just know that if you feel the need for a discreet therapist, then I will take care of it.”

I was halfway into turning around to leave when her words properly registered with me. “Therapist? Who even does that?”

“Everyone on the team prior to your joining has, at one time or another, partaken in such services. It’s no secret that Elle does even now.”

“Huh? She hadn’t— Wait, you mean the hypnotist?” I found out shortly after the wolf incident that Elle worked with a hypnotist regularly to try and get a better grasp of her unruly power. Before they had started, apparently her power had much more readily spawned creations fueled by her nightmares. It had even been so bad at the start that she hadn’t been able to stay at Palanquin for fear her power might hurt someone.

“Hypnosis is one aspect they work on,” Melanie confirmed, “though I should add that I only know that much because we had to search for a bit to find someone capable of helping Elle. What they discuss or do beyond that I am neither privy to nor wish to be.”

“Huh. Well… Okay? I’ll, um, let you know or whatever.” _Smooth, June._ “Anyway, Elle and I were gonna go take a walk to the park, so I’ll catch you later.”

“Be safe,” she said as I slipped out.

 _You don’t need to tell me twice…_ I thought with a grimace. _Danger is everywhere._

It wasn’t a far jaunt down the hall to our room, and I heard Masuyo and Aisha bickering good-naturedly over something I couldn’t quite make out as I approached the ajar door. “Uh, hi you two?” I remarked as I stepped inside. “What’s up?”

“Your cousin,” Aisha began, as if whatever she was about to impart was _my_ fault by consequence of our being related, “is trying to justify not putting ice in her drinks to keep them cold.”

“I just don’t like them being watered down,” Masuyo clarified with a roll of her eyes from where she sat next to Elle on her bed.

“What if it’s water?”

“Well obviously that’s fine. You can’t water down _water_.”

“You can if it’s salt water!”

“Wha— Why are you putting ice in salt water? Surely you’re not drinking it?!”

Elle and I shared a look, and I could quite clearly read her expression: _Save me._

“Well, as, um… _interesting_ as your debate sounds, Elle and I were planning to go for a walk to the park…” I explained in my best approximation of an apologetic voice as I dug my coat out of my still packed bag. _Take the hint and get outta here… I wanna take my girlfriend on a nice walk._

“She mentioned,” Masuyo replied before dashing my hopes. “After the long ride in the van, we were hoping we could join you and stretch our legs a bit.”

“That too,” Aisha contributed before adding with a smirk, “But really I’m coming along to supervise and make sure you don’t jump each others' bones behind a bush or something.”

Masuyo and I both groaned, though I imagined for different reasons. “Behind a bush? You really think we’d do that, Aisha?” I said.

“Nah, not really. I actually think El would whip up a king sized bed covered in rose petals or something.”

That got a choked laugh from me, which I felt a bit bad about, since Elle didn’t seem to find it nearly as funny. “Well that won’t be happening either.” I pulled on my jacket and reached out to help Elle stand. “We don’t need you two hovering.”

“Three,” Masuyo corrected as she and Aisha stood as well.

“Don’t tell me…”

My cousin’s phone chose that precise moment to ring, and I knew who was on the other end, even before she said, “Hey, Sabah. We were just about to come down.”

“Hey! No!” I hissed, tapping my arms together as an ‘X.’ “You’re gonna out them!”

“Don’t sweat it,” Aisha assured me, throwing her arm around my shoulder. “She already ran it by us.”

“Wait, _what_?” I blurted and immediately looked to my side for confirmation from Elle.

She gave me a smile and confirmed, “It’s someone Masuyo trusts, so I don’t mind.”

“And I’ll make her life a living hell if she gives up my identity to anyone else,” Aisha threw in with a smirk and a vicious glint in her eye.

That comment earned a concerned glance from Masuyo, who was still on the phone, and I leaned in closer to whisper to Elle, “Are you _sure_ you’re okay with this?”

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can do something else,” she whispered back. “She said this lady already knows you’re Meteor?”

“Well yes, but only by chance…” I blew out a huff of air as my cousin hung up and looked to us inquiringly. “Whatever. I guess if you two don’t mind then it’s okay.” I almost tacked on a plea that they not make things awkward, but I knew better than to say _that_ , since it would all but guarantee Aisha went out of her way to do the opposite. Instead, I hooked an arm through Elle’s, and she took the cue and led us down to the entrance while Aisha and Masuyo followed in our wake. We found Sabah waiting with Pierce, and if the several yards of distance between them and her uneasy expression were any indication, she was uncomfortable around him.

Her demeanor changed the moment she saw the four of us approaching, and she waved broadly with a smile, calling out, “Hey there! Welcome back!”

Elle gave her a shy little wave, and Masuyo hustled forward to give the short woman a hug. “Hey, Sabah! It’s good to be back.”

“Aw, like cousin like cousin, huh?” Aisha teased, prompting a baleful look from Masuyo.

“If you’re just coming along to annoy me, then _please_ feel free to stay here.”

“And miss seeing the awkward-lesbians-mobile in action? Not a chance! You four are gonna be hil- _ar_ -ious, so I don’t mind being the spare tire.”

It was readily obvious that Sabah’s train of thought was derailed by that statement. Her expression shifted from indignation to complete confusion before finally landing on cautious glee when her eyes alighted on my arm through Elle’s. “Wait…”

I rolled my eyes. _No sense denying it._ “Yuuup. Card carrying and certified now.”

I don’t think any of us were prepared for the _squeal_ of excitement that elicited from Sabah. “Yes!! So much yes!” Nor were we prepared for her to abruptly blanch and quietly add, “Um, I um…Sorry? And… congratulations?”

Aisha was the first to recover, and she devolved into mad cackling for several seconds before asking, “Holy shit, are you bipolar or what?”

“Not how being bipolar works, Aisha,” Masuyo darkly noted before turning to whisper something to the obviously embarrassed Sabah.

Clearly we were never going to get to the park if I didn’t drag us there kicking and screaming, so I firmly—and loudly, so I could be heard over the _still_ cackling Aisha—asked Elle, “Ready to go?”

“Please,” she muttered, taking the lead. It didn’t escape my notice that she had a bit of heat in her cheeks as well.

I was immensely grateful for my warm jacket, since the cold air outside was being made worse by the breeze blowing in from the bay. The closest park to Palanquin, and the one I had gone to with Elle a few times prior to our trip to Philadelphia—before our trip to Providence, really—was west of the club. That meant the breeze was at our backs, and my hair was blowing everywhere, since I had no hood on my jacket and had forgotten to bring a hair tie.

“Goddamned hair,” I grumbled for the fifth time as we finally entered the park, prompting another round of giggles from Elle. “I swear, one of you could’ve warned me long hair actually sucks ass sometimes.”

“I don’t mind it,” she remarked as she leaned in and pecked me on the cheek. “I think it makes you look wild.”

Aisha, who had been in the midst of saying something that made Sabah blush and Masuyo groan, whirled around and said, “Wait, I missed it! Say it again!”

“Not a chance,” I told her, making my voice extra perky just to rub it in.

“Nooooo! Why must you deprive me of my sole joy in life, Junebug?!”

“I want you to know I’m going to remember this when you get a boyfriend,” I rejoined as Elle steered the five of us towards a small shelter with a table near some trees. “I will play third wheel and go along with you on everything, doing my damnedest to embarrass you at every opportunity.”

“Yes, but will you actually enjoy it like I do?” she countered with a wide smile.

 _Damn, she’s got a point_ , I thought as I took a seat with Elle in the shelter. “I’ll enjoy getting revenge.”

“So what you’re _actually_ saying is you’ll go along maybe once then get bored and go back to spending time with El.”

“I’m quite certain I’ll make an exception, if it means bugging the shit out of you.”

The sound of a bird’s chirrup reached my ears alongside a minute gasp from Elle. “June, look!” she whispered. “Second tree from us.”

I looked up curiously and noticed a shock of red among the leaves. “Oh, I’ve seen those before. Can’t remember what they’re called though.”

“Northern Cardinal,” she murmured, transfixed by it. “They represent someone you loved who’s died.”

“That sounds grim,” Sabah remarked from the other side of the table. “Or is it a ‘your loved one is visiting you’ sort of thing?”

“That one.”

I looked back to the cardinal in a new light, unsure what to think of the pretty bird. “Whose is it then?”

“Hm?” Elle finally turned away from the bird and gave me a long, slow blink. I narrowly resisted the urge to frown, recognizing the first signs she may begin slipping back into bad days ahead. “Whose?”

“Whose loved one is it?”

She hummed, sounding unsure as she turned back to the bird, which had flitted to another branch in the same tree. “Not sure.”

When I was younger I had seen couples everywhere in the city engaging public displays of affection, ranging from small things like holding hands all the way up to literally fucking in alleyways behind dumpsters. I had never understood why somebody would do that, but sitting there next to Elle as she smiled brightly up at the cardinal and the other birds in the trees, the breeze occasionally catching her fine, delicate blond strands? Well, I _still_ wouldn’t be caught dead trying to have sexy in a dirty New York alley—or Brockton Bay, thank you very much—but the minor stuff…

I leaned into Elle and rested my head on her shoulder. Her gaze drifted down to me, and her lips curled into a smile as she wrapped an arm around my back, gently tugging me closer.

_Yeah. Yeah, I get it now._

“Gaaaaayyy— _Ow_ , jesus fucking shit, that hurt!”

I smirked as I caught the coin I had smacked into Aisha’s forehead. “And proud of it.”

* * *

I jerked awake in a panic, and for a groggy, disorienting second I wasn’t sure why. I groaned lightly and rubbed at my eyes while I tried to make sense of the mish-mash my thoughts were in.

_Graveyard… Ariel…? I’m so confused…_

I pried my eyes open and blearily examined my surroundings. Moonlight was streaming down through our window, and I could hear the faint sound of music and activity. I was confused by Elle’s bed being missing, but when a warmth shifted behind me, I remembered we had pushed our beds together. My lips quirked up at the thought of the… activities that had followed.

 _A nightmare then_ , I determined, breathing a bit easier now that I knew a skinless Ariel wasn’t going to drag me into the ground. The covers had fallen off of me a bit while I was asleep, and the feeling of the room’s air on my bare skin made me shiver. I wiggled myself back deeper into Elle and pulled the covers up to try and get comfortable again, and when the other girl’s breath briefly hitched, I worried I had woken her. Thankfully, her breathing quickly evened back out, and aside from her arm wrapping itself tighter around my belly, she didn’t respond.

I checked the alarm clock on the nightstand, and the red ‘01:32’ piercing the darkness of the room explained why I could hear music in the distance. The walls were sound-proofed, but the windows weren’t, and that meant you could ironically only hear the music from the club if you listened closely enough at the side of the room opposite from the actual source of it. Massachusetts had a statewide law setting ‘last call’ at 2 A.M., but local governments could adjust that as desired. Sunday through Thursday, Brockton Bay followed the statewide schedule of ending alcohol sales at 1:30 A.M. and closing up on the hour, but on Fridays and Saturdays, an extra two hours were tacked on. Being a Saturday, that meant the hubbub in the club wouldn’t be dying down for several more hours.

Unfortunately, I failed to fall back asleep and watched in growing frustration as the minutes ticked higher and higher. When the clock finally hit 2:00, I decided, _Guess I’m not falling asleep anytime soon… Might as well go hang out on the balcony for a bit._

It took me a fair bit of careful wiggling to escape Elle’s arm without waking her, but other than a mumbled, barely audible word that _might_ have been ‘June’ but could just as easily have been ‘moon,’ she wasn’t roused and continued to sleep. I pulled on the clothes I had tossed aside earlier and finger combed my hair to look a bit less like I had just rolled out of bed after sex. I had retrieved my backpack of coins and was just starting to turn the knob when it hit me that I hadn’t grabbed my mask or goggles, so I quickly doubled back to grab them before heading out.

I felt… strange looking at them. I hadn’t worn them since the training exercise in Philadelphia eight days ago, but it felt longer. Likely because it was only a few days ago I had been… convinced to change costumes.

 _I’m Meteor_ , I reminded myself. I shivered again, but this time it had nothing to do with the temperature. I tied the scarf in place and pulled the goggles on.

 _I’m Meteor_.

A short walk later, I was stepping through the doorway leading onto the club balcony. The roar of the music properly hit me then along with the flashing lights of the dance floor, and I was unsurprised to find a myriad of unconscious women littering the booths. I was more surprised to find Faultline sitting together with Gregor in a booth while Newter entertained three ladies in a booth closer to the stairs leading down. I gave Newter a friendly wave that he returned before gravitating down towards the other end of the balcony.

“Good evening, Meteor,” Gregor greeted me as I slipped into the booth next to Faultline for the sake of space—Gregor was a great guy, but he was also a _large_ guy and really needed a seat for himself.

“Hey.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” Faultline asked, her welder’s mask and the ambient noise making it somewhat hard to hear her.

“Did for a bit,” I answered as I sent the coins in my bag floating out over the dance floor. The glittering and sparkling of the lights on the metal made the crowd roar with approval as always. “Had a nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she replied. As ever, her tone didn’t _really_ sound overly concerned, but that was normal for her. I knew her well enough at this point that I knew to take her at face value for statements like that. “I was just about to ask the bar staff to run us up some drinks. Want anything?” The ‘non-alcoholic’ was implied—I knew from experience. Faultline might not be making me go to Winslow and might be a mercenary that would steal candy from a baby if you paid her too, but apparently she drew the line at letting her underage crew members drink alcohol. Even Newter wasn’t allowed for the next several years, or so he’d told me once.

“Eh. I’d like a coke, but that’ll just make it harder to get to sleep. A sprite? That’s non-caffeinated, right?”

“You could always drink water,” Gregor suggested with a laugh.

“Hey, if my drink isn’t supported by millions spent in advertising, then clearly it’s not worth drinking,” I quipped with a laugh of my own while Faultline tapped on her phone, presumably sending down the drink orders. “So what’s got you two out here tonight, especially this late?”

“Celebrating the disaster of Philadelphia being behind us,” Faultline said, “not to mention finally having some solid info on the origin behind Case 53s.”

“Partying at a club is your idea of a good time? I don’t see it.”

“Believe it or not, I used to frequent clubs like this once,” she remarked, sounding almost wistful as she leaned back in the booth and looked off to the side at the dance floor. “It’s one reason I chose to make my own club as a front.”

 _Huh. Wouldn’t have pegged her as the type_ , I thought in surprise. “I’ll take your word for it. The rest of that though—I thought we hadn’t gotten any intel, since we never did run an official job in Philly. We got something after all?”

“The original lead ran cold, but we chanced upon another.” The satisfaction in her words was plain to hear.

“Well don’t hold us in suspense!”

“I already told Gregor and Newter. They’ve contributed more to that investigation than anyone else, after all, so it was only fair.” She looked to Gregor, and he shrugged. “Very well. I had been planning to announce the findings at our meeting tomorrow, but—”

Whatever she had been about to say was lost in the cacophony of screams that began when someone started shooting a gun down on the floor. I was caught completely off guard like I had been when Ariel had begun shooting at the zoo, so the first two shots hit their intended targets before I could do anything. Fortunately, the shooter had been aiming for the large strobe lights used for the dance floor, so other than the glass maybe hitting people below, nobody was hurt. I caught and melted the shots that followed the first two using my power and scrambled to my feet far later than Gregor or Faultline—the former having pulled the table up and into basic cover on the balcony and the latter rushing to the stairway. Newter had also already leapt to the wall and from there to the ceiling, and as Faultline ran under him, she yelled to me, “Melt the gun! Disable the shooter!”

“On it!” I yelled back as I felt the shooter eject the magazine and start fishing out another. I melted the gun, the new magazine, and even the spent one for good measure and wrapped the melted metal in their hand around their wrist before dragging them into the air. The main overhead lights used during the day flared into life, giving me better sight of the target, an Asian man in ABB colors. I immediately started wrapping various parts of him in more metal to restrict his movement, and when I glanced up to the ceiling, I saw Newter was already over him and ready to pounce if asked.

“Everyone, please call down and remain where you are,” Faultline’s voice boomed through the club. She was speaking through the same system the DJ used to speak to the crowd, but when I checked the DJ booth, I didn’t see anyone there. _An app on her phone maybe?_ “Our staff have locked down the building and are sweeping for more gunmen. Please bear with us as we work to ensure your safety. If someone near you needs medical attention, then please raise your arms as high into the air as possible, so our staff can attend to you as swiftly as possible.”

It would be _generous_ to say the crowd calmed down after that, but at least the screams settled down into people only mildly loudly yelling at each other. Arms rose into the air at a few spots in the crowd as well. Not all of them were underneath where the lights had been, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if some people got trampled in the panic that ensued.

“Meteor,” Gregor said, drawing my attention to him. “Bring the shooter to the balcony.”

I nodded and hurried to oblige, and Newter tracked the man on the ceiling the whole way over.

“Meteor!” the gunman yelled once he laid eyes on me. I didn’t recognize him, but clearly he knew me. Now that I was closer I could make out finer details: Namely, this guy looked worried out of his mind. As a—presumably—normal man walking into a club known to be run by parahumans and causing a scene, I could imagine why. “I have a message for you.”

Faultline returned up the stairs, and looked to Gregor, asking, “What has he said?”

“He says he has a message for Meteor.”

The man nodded frantically, sweat on his brow. “I do. The great and glorious Lung demands you submit yourself to the ABB—to where you truly belong.”

“Never gonna happen, asswipe!” I snarled.

“H-He said to tell you, ‘If you do not, then everything around you, including your family, will _burn_.’”

I froze. _Masuyo?_

Faultline’s phone rang, and she answered it with an imperious, “Report.” I couldn’t see her facial expressions through her welder’s mask when she hung up a moment later, but I didn’t need to guess, since she brought the phone back to her face right after, and I heard her say with the speakers overhead echoing her words in stereo, “Once again, I must ask everyone to stay calm and remain where you are. The building is in _lockdown_. We must ask you all to remain here until it is safe to leave.”

“Boss?” I asked, unable to help the worry leaking into my words. _Do they have Masuyo?_ “What’s going on?”

“Lung is torching the neighborhood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did get the chance to do some minor proofreading of this today, and thank goodness for that too, since there were a number of my stereotypical "jesus, I wrote what?!" errors that y'all normally don't get too see too much of. My company's (virtual!) holiday party was today, and I thought it was gonna go much later, so I was trying to rush this out, but then I found out it wasn't going to be anywhere near as long as I thought, so I only needed to wait out the being drunk at 6p EST ^_^;;
> 
> I would have gotten the chapter out well before the party (see my aforementioned misunderstanding about how long the party was going to go), but I had a surprise drop into my lap last night... or rather come prancing over when I called out after seeing her wandering lost in our parking lot last night. I spent hours today trying to track down the owner of this lost calico kitten (she's on the upper end of "kitten," but she's hardly full grown) today, and so far I've had no luck despite her being chipped. Number on the chip's a dead end, so is the name, and nobody is responding to my post on craigslist and the local neighborhood app. It's starting to look like my partner and I are about to be the proud owners of a fourth fur baby, but we're not giving up on looking for the owner yet!


	33. Snare 4.z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to Juff on the Cauldron discord for helping me proofread this week's chapter!

As Brad stepped into the private meeting room in Abend Stube, his eyes scanned the room to see who was present. Kaiser was seated at the head of the table in his armor of blades, flanked by the twins Fenja and Menja in their full valkyrie armor and weapons in hand. The first seat on the right side of the table was empty, meaning Krieg had not yet arrived, but Brad traced his gaze down the line from Victor to Othala and finally to Rune. He sneered at Othala’s cousin, and even though the wannabe villain couldn’t have seen the expression through his full-face metal wolf mask, she still looked down at the table and seemed to shrink in on herself.

_Pathetic._

With nary a break in his step, he crossed over to the table with Cricket and Stormtiger flanking him, and together the three of them took their appointed seats. Brad’s seat on the left side near Kaiser meant he was as far from the mewling weakling as he could be, which suited him just fine. Even Othala, a non-combatant, had a spine and stood up for herself. Rune had yet to prove herself and did not deserve a seat at the table. Worse yet, she had failed the test he himself had appointed her so badly that her identity had been blown and the target had become a cape—a cape she had yet to do anything about, despite everyone knowing Kaiser had directed her to do so.

“What do you think?” Stormtiger asked Cricket, his tone suggesting a whisper despite speaking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Has Kaiser gotten tired of the runt and decided to kick her to the curb?”

Cricket shook with silent laughter, and Brad smirked when Rune visibly tensed but didn’t verbally respond. It was good that the little shit had at least learned words meant nothing if you didn’t back them up with action. Until she actually proved herself, she needed to sit down and shut up while the adults handled real business.

Krieg arrived not much later, and once he was seated across from Brad, Kaiser leaned forward and steepled his hands. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I won’t mince words: As some of you no doubt heard, Lung set aflame several blocks of the northernmost part of Downtown.”

Brad had been reclining at ease in his seat, but when he heard that, he leaned forward with anticipation. Though the Empire had a strong presence in the southern areas of the Bay that mirrored the ABB’s presence on the north side, and there were still attacks on the respective ends of the city on shipments or stashes, the middle of the city was far more contested. The Protectorate were also a factor when fights broke out in the middle ground, since they mostly policed Downtown up through the Boardwalk. If Lung had made a huge move in the area, then that was the Empire’s cue to put pressure on them while the ‘heroes’ kept the dragon busy.

“More specifically,” Kaiser added, “the affected area was centered on one place in particular: The nightclub known as Palanquin.”

That brought a slight frown of consideration to Brad’s face. Though the middle of the city _was_ the most contested, there were still some areas that were silently but mutually agreed upon as no-go zones. The university, for example, was a location where gang activity was heavily punished by the Protectorate. The weighty cost of pushing into the area combined with the relatively minor gains to be made from the eclectic mix of businesses bordering the university grounds meant neither gang bothered with the area. The same was true of the area around Palanquin, though for different reasons. It was an open secret that Faultline and her crew of mercenaries owned and frequented the club, so much so it was suspected as their base of operations. The lone, truly neutral party in the Bay, they were generally avoided because one never knew when their services might be required. It didn’t hurt that they had several capes in their roster, though Brad hadn’t paid attention to how many since they’d been enlisted to help them guard a high priority shipment from Gesellschaft back in February.

“A peculiar maneuver,” Krieg spoke up. “What has possessed Lung that he risks the ire of the mercenaries?”

“Rune,” Kaiser intoned, eliciting a startled jerk from the twit. “I trust you know why?”

The capes at the table shifted their focus to her, and she audibly gulped— _Pathetic_ , Brad thought once more—before replying, “He’s going after Meteor, sir.”

 _That_ name Brad knew, if only because Rune had been asked twice in previous meetings about her status on making an example of the cape. “Oh? The kid who fucked you over got picked up by the mercs, huh?

It was amusing to ruffle her feathers and watch her impotently waver on how to respond. A couple beats of silence passed before the kid managed to muster up the response, “Yeah, we think they recruited him within a week or so of his trigger.” She paused and cleared her throat. “We’ve been keeping an ear out, and it sounds like Meteor… well, he beat Lung around that same time, and Victor, he uh, he said Lung’s pride is a sore spot. I bet Lung also figured out the mercs are back in town and decided to repay the favor.”

 _The new trigger beat_ Lung _?_ Brad thought in surprise and not a little bit of anticipation. _Well, well, well. You just got more interesting, Meteor._

Ignorant of Brad’s thoughts, Krieg spoke up once more. “‘Also figured out,’ you said. We also knew this information then? How did we come by it?”

“I set up a small, faux cell tower a block away from Palanquin at the beginning of the month,” Victor supplied. “Some of you may remember we’ve used them a couple of times in the past when we were trying to pick up on local cell phone chatter in an area.”

“Wouldn’t that be really obvious?” Cricket spoke up, her digitized voice emanating from her artificial larynx. A souvenir courtesy of a throat injury from the days back when she and Brad had been pit fighters together.

“Operative word here is small,” he replied. “The goal is to get enough traffic from local cell phones that we get what we want without getting _too_ much or causing a blip big enough it tips off the people who monitor where traffic is being routed through. I had to set up a small distance away to avoid getting the attention of any of Faultline’s people, but we’ve still been able to pick up a few unsecured calls being made from within the club.”

He looked to Rune, and she cleared her throat nervously. “That’s how we knew they’d be at Bayside after their job in Providence, and it’s also how we knew they almost immediately left town for Philadelphia. Um, that’s also why I haven’t been able to make good on your order, s-sir.”

“And so it is you have neatly brought us back to the matter at hand,” Kaiser said, sounding as though he had planned the exact track the conversation would take. Hell, for all Brad knew, it might even be true. That was the sort of thing Kaiser was good at, and Brad was happy to leave that to him and focus his own energies on doing what he loved best—fighting. “Lung’s attack necessitates a response from Faultline and her… people. Tell me, Rune, do you know what kind of response that will be?”

“I, um…” Her head minutely shifted towards Victor before immediately returning to Kaiser. A reflexive action, and one Brad recognized. When a weak fighter faced down someone stronger than them, they tended to look for safety—for an escape route. Victor had been wasting his time trying to mentor the kid, and so she sought him out unconsciously when in danger. The fact she caught herself and reversed course was a sign of improvement, but again, too little too late in Brad’s opinion. “They’ll… They’ll um… Well, Faultline and her people, they’re mercenaries, so they won’t attack directly, but… They still have to act against him?”

Kaiser waited a beat longer, then he tsked and drawled, “You’re not wrong, and yet even now it’s clear you still don’t see the whole picture. Disappointing.”

Rune squirmed as he turned to Victor. “I trust you can answer where your protégé cannot?”

“It goes without saying they’ll blacklist the ABB,” the other cape immediately answered. “Any jobs they had lined up or were in the process of doing so will be canceled. They have to make a show of strength, to show they aren’t to be messed with. Normally they wouldn’t risk their image as mercenaries, but something this public makes it clear any action against the ABB is retaliation for being slighted.

“The problem is that’s difficult to do with a cape like Lung. We know they’ve recruited two new capes, counting Meteor. From what was made public of Providence, the other cape, Shade, is some sort of power copier.” He paused there, long enough Brad raised an eye at the uncharacteristic nature of it. “Apologies, I just had a thought I will discuss with you later in private, sir,” he finally said. “As I was saying, the other cape copies powers. Meteor has beaten Lung once before, though it seems it was through sheer dumb luck, so it’s likely Faultline will make a public showing involving the two of them in some way. That will attract the wandering eyes of not just Lung but also the Protectorate and PRT. If she plays it right, she’ll have them at her back in any conflict Lung instigates from there.”

“My thoughts precisely,” Kaiser acknowledged. “This provides us a unique opportunity. With the eyes of the city’s so-called defenders turned elsewhere, we may act with a firm hand and claim that which is ours. Krieg, Hookwolf: I leave the minutia to your discretion. Fenja and Menja are at your disposal for this task, Krieg, as I have another task in mind for Rune and Victor. The nature of this task, I trust, you can manage to deduce, Rune?”

The girl gave him a stiff nod. “Meteor will be in the public. We’re to make an example out of him.”

“Quite.”

“You’re going to fail, girlie,” Brad added as he leaned forward, no longer hiding the menace behind his voice and posture. “And this time, when you do? This cape who keeps eluding you is _mine_.”

“W-We won’t! _I_ won’t!” she stammered out, but even now there was no confidence, no surety in the words. Brad knew it, and so did everyone else at the table. It was as plain as day she would somehow fail, and when she did? Hopefully Kaiser would stop entertaining this little shit as anything more than a human forklift, only fit to make transferring shipments quicker. And even better, Brad would get the chance to see for himself what this _Meteor_ was made of—whether his win against the dragon was a fluke.

“Very well, Hookwolf,” Kaiser stated as he rose to his feet, the valkyries at his back shifting in response. “This is your final chance, Rune. I won’t suffer further delays. Take care of this matter, or it will no longer be your concern.” He turned on his heel and stalked towards the door with his entourage in step behind him. “You all have your assignments. I expect results. Dismissed.”

The three of them swept out of the room, and the rest of them rose as well, with Rune lagging slightly behind, her doubt making itself apparent even in this most basic of things. Brad moved towards the exit, knowing Cricket and Stormtiger would follow, but as he grabbed the handle, he was brought up short by the twerp calling out to him, “Hookwolf!”

He didn’t bother to turn around. “The fuck do you want?”

“I won’t fail. Meteor is _mine_.”

Brad chuckled darkly. “All bark, no bite.”

_Prove you’re worth something, or prove me right. Either way, it’ll give me a chance to see if this Meteor is worth fighting._

He turned the knob, and he left.

* * *

Doug carefully pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket as he maneuvered his car up to the cordon around the building and pulled to a stop before gripping the gear shift and sliding it into park. Behind the cordon, the green lights of the PRT vans were the only ones present—no ambulances, firetrucks, or police cruisers in sight. He imagined they might have been called in at first, but given the details he had been provided with… well, they likely hadn’t proved necessary. There were only a couple of PRT vans present for that matter, but given the usual needs of the Bay and that several city blocks of the north end of Downtown had been reduced to kindling for a massive bonfire, he imagined they probably couldn’t spare many units for this particular disaster.

 _Struggling to keep up because there aren’t enough resources. If that isn’t Brockton Bay in a nutshell, I don’t know what is,_ Doug thought with a weary sigh. _Worst part is, I’m sure there’s more to come._ He had seen more than enough in his time to know that much. If Lung’s focus, and therefore the ABB’s focus, was on one area, the E88 would strike somewhere else.

One of the PRT officers in their fully concealing black armor approached the driver’s side of the vehicle as Doug rolled down the window of his older vehicle with the hand crank. “This is a restricted area at this time,” the officer announced. “If you are a resident of the building, then please park elsewhere, and have your ID card ready to establish proof of residency if you wish to enter the building. If you live on floors thirteen or above—”

“Son, save me the spiel,” Doug finally interjected when it became clear the armored officer wasn’t going to stop talking anytime soon. He pulled his PRT ID card out of the wallet and held it up for the officer’s inspection. “I’m here on official business.”

The officer leaned forward a bit to examine the card closer before nodding in satisfaction and waving to the other officers to move the makeshift barriers that had been put in place to block street traffic from pulling into the building. “Please park your car…” He paused, and Doug felt a brief flash of irritation as, even through the full-face helmet with its tinted visor, he could just _tell_ the ass was judging his old Betsy. _She’s a bit of a clunker, but she’s_ my _clunker, dammit!_ “… in a spot in the lot that isn’t next to one of our vans.”

“Sure thing,” Doug replied dismissively as he rolled the window back up and shifted back into drive. He slid into a free parking spot and winced at the grinding sound of the transmission as he slid Betsy into park. “Gonna have to get that looked at soon.”

He grabbed his cane and groaned a bit as he climbed out of the car. As he closed and locked the vehicle, he looked up in disbelief at the giant mass of glass that a solid chunk on one side of the building’s upper levels had become. “Hoo-boy… I can’t believe they cleared this thing as safe to be in.”

Shaking his head, Doug made his way into the building and pulled out his phone with his free hand to double check his destination. “Let’s see… Apartment number 16J.” He blinked and looked at the ‘PRT Do-Not-Cross’ tape blocking the partially ajar doors of the only elevators in the lobby. “Oh don’t tell me…”

“Sir, are you a resident here?” An officer stationed by the stairs asked, sounding suspicious. “If you’re not, I’m afraid—”

“I’m with the PRT, kid,” Doug said with a sigh as he fished out his ID card and presented it once again.

“I see. Can I help you find something, sir?”

“I’m _hoping_ ,” he said with a gesture at his cane, “you’ll either tell me Apartment 16J isn’t on the sixteenth floor or else that there’s another elevator that _is_ functional.”

The man had the gall to chuckle. “Sixteenth floor, and the freight elevator is broken too. Whatever did that up there hit all the elevator cables too. I’m sure you can imagine how well glass supported the weight of an elevator car. You’ll have to hoof it.”

 _Goddammit, Helios_ , Doug cursed for the millionth time as he limped over to the stairwell by the officer. The burn scars littering the left side of his body from the chest down were already aching at the mere thought of ascending that many stairs. _I hope you’re enjoying your stay in the ‘Cage, you fucking prick._

“Douglas Wells with PRT Special Operations is coming up,” the officer spoke into his radio as he held open the door for Doug to pass through.

It was impossible to put into words just how agonizing the climb was, even with his frequent, quick breaks to catch his breath—and that one time to swallow the opioids intended for breakthrough pain—but eventually he made it to the thirteenth floor. This was notably not the sixteenth floor, but it was halfway up the flight to the fourteenth floor that the radius of whatever had caused things to turn to glass extended into the stairwell, and another PRT officer was stationed there.

“Douglas Wells, sir?” she asked him.

He huffed, half in achy weariness and half in exasperation. “Expecting someone else?”

“Honestly? When he said you were Spec Ops…”

“I’ll thank you not to finish that sentence,” Doug growled. Once upon a time, he had a whole rant for questions like that. A whole rant. Really. Now though? Now he was just goddamned tired and wanted to get this shit over with so he could go home and down a few melatonin and get back to sleeping instead of dealing with this debacle that had woken him up in the middle of the fucking night.

“Right. Sorry.” _Well at least she has the decency to be apologetic about it._ “You’ll need to be extraordinarily careful from here up, sir. The glass has been deemed strong enough to support human weight, but you’ll—” she cleared her throat awkwardly “—need to avoid striking the steps too soundly with your cane.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Doug grunted as he passed her and continued upwards. He quickly noticed that unlike the tile stairs with rubber lips he had been climbing up to that point, the glass stairs didn’t have nearly as much friction. Fortunately that meant the glass was also extremely smooth, so he was able to safely grip the glass hand rail without worrying about cutting open his palm. 

_Saw enough of that back when I was dealing with those cultists following that Séance guy, thank you very much._

Finally—finally!—he reached the right floor and started trudging down the hallway, following the lettered doors in the right direction. He knew he had found the right one not because of its letter but because a human sized hole had been carefully cut, suctioned out of the door, and set aside to allow entry. He ducked through the opening and blinked when he saw who was inside, examining the glass sphere in the middle of what looked to have been the living room.

“Armsmaster. Now this is a treat.”

The bearded hero looked up from where he had been kneeling next to the sphere. He was, for once, not in his tinkertech armor, which Doug imagined was a safety consideration, given its weight. Instead, he only wore his helmet, and his trademark halberd lay on the ground nearby. “Wells.”

“If you’re here, then they must think all of this is the result of tinkertech and _that_ —” he jabbed a finger at the sphere “—is our culprit.”

“Correct. First responders reached out for PRT because this apartment is flagged, and when the first squad investigated, they called me in when they found this bomb.”

“A bomb? What makes you call it that?”

“It’s impossible to say with certainty with the part in this… state, but my analysis of what structures are visible suggest a 73.8% likelihood the main body of the device functions as a trigger mechanism for internal components that are specialized to the prescribed effect. In this case—”

“Turning most of the area into glass, right, I got it.” _Sheesh. I’d almost forgotten why I don’t care for you that much too._ “I vaguely recall hearing about a Tinker who specialized in bombs getting up to no good in a nearby city recently, but I’m hazy on the details. Know who I’m talking about?”

“Bakuda,” the hero supplied as he rose to his feet. “Real name suspected but not confirmed. She held Cornell university hostage earlier this month.”

“Right, that’s the one. Had the boys down in NYC pulling their hair out. Question is, why would she do this _here_? The Bay is a helluva hike from Ithaca.”

“I’m not at liberty to say all of our suspicions, but it’s possible she was recruited by the ABB.”

 _Hmph. Might as well say ‘it pertains to her suspected identity,’_ Doug thought with a carefully suppressed urge to roll his eyes. “Mhm. What’s the sitch in the rest of the apartment?”

“There’s no further signs of tinkertech. Unlike the other apartments, nobody was in this one when the bomb went off. The accommodations are lived in but suggest either its owner is fastidious on a daily basis or has been away for some time.”

“The latter,” Doug confirmed as he limped over to the hallway to inspect matters himself. “Nothing else strange or notable?”

“No,” was Armsmaster’s clipped reply. “This apartment was pegged for an active investigation with Spec Ops then? I had thought it likely, when they told me you would be coming.”

“Got it in one.” He stepped into the lone bedroom and checked around for strewn body parts—Armsmaster had said nobody was in the apartment, but that didn’t mean their dismembered limbs or constituent parts hadn’t been. Once he was satisfied, he returned to the hallway and carefully maneuvered around the meticulously removed glass sections of the louvered hallway closet door as he made his way to the bathroom to investigate its status.

When it eventually became clear Doug wasn’t going to say anything further, Armsmaster tersely asked, “And what was this case?”

 _No signs here either_ , Doug thought with a minor degree of relief as he examined the small bathroom. He grunted and answered, “Well, after this, I’m certain the powers that be will order the file passed along to you anyway, so I s’pose there’s no harm in telling you now.” He looked the hero directly in the visor. “Apartment is leased to Masuyo Reuter, who up until a few weeks ago was receiving a regular stipend to take care of a person of interest by the name of Jake Fujiwara. Mr. Fujiwara is an under-aged high schooler, and Ms. Reuter was chosen to take care of him as his closest living relative that isn’t a criminal. You’ll note I said ‘up until a few weeks ago.’ Trouble is, she went off the grid, and so did the kid. Principal at the school covered up his absence, so the school would continue getting funding for his alleged attendance—claimed administrative oversight, of course—so we didn’t know the kid hadn’t even been going to school since his second day there at the tail end of September.”

Doug moved around the sphere in the living room and carefully sat down on the glass couch, breathing out a sigh of relief at the weight being taken off of his bad leg. While he collected himself, Armsmaster asked the million dollar question, “And the boy? Why is he a person of interest to the PRT? Is he a known cape?”

“Not that we’re aware of, but it’s entirely possible,” Doug acknowledged. “There’s an increased likelihood of someone triggering when a family member is a parahuman, and the Fujiwara kid? He’s the son of Butcher VII.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this?! I got a new chapter out... in the middle of Friday afternoon?! Madness! What can I say though? I just couldn't wait for the big partial reveal about June's heritage and the reason the PRT were trying to keep an eye on her civilian identity via Masuyo.


	34. Snare 4.4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Juff on the Cauldron Discord for proofreading this chapter and providing feedback!

“C’mon, c’mon…” I muttered as I paced around the roof of the building across the street from Masuyo’s mutilated apartment, listening to the phone ring out— _again_. PRT officers were crawling all over the area below, and with the moon nearly full above me, I had touched down to avoid being spotted. _Don’t be dead, don’t be dead…_

“Hey, this is Masuyo,” the voicemail greeted me for the second time. “Sorry I can’t—”

I growled and barely resisted the urge to tug my hair out as I hung up and dialed again. _Of all the nights she could have spent away from Palanquin! Why tonight?!_

The phone reached the last ring before voicemail, and I nearly ended the call only to catch at the last second, “June, it’s _2:30_ _in the morning_. Wh—”

 _Oh thank god!_ “Where are you?!”

A sigh came through from the other end along with the vague sound of rustling sheets. “I _told_ you we weren’t—”

“I know you’re not at Palanquin,” I interrupted. “Lung’s attacking the area and threatening me— _us_. I flew to your apartment to get you, and it’s… fuck, I don’t even _know_ what the hell happened here. Now where the _fuck_ are you?!”

“Shit!” More rustling, and I swore I could hear somebody in the background. Feminine sounding, so probably Sabah, but their voice was too faint to say for sure. “Shiiit. Fuck, we’re, um… At Sabah’s place.”

“Start getting dressed and send me an address. I’m coming to get you.”

“W-Wait, you can’t come here!”

“Wha— Why the fuck not?!” I bit out, throwing my free hand up in the air in exasperation. “Was I unclear about the fucking gang boss threatening us and setting the neighborhood on fire? I feel like I was _pretty damn clear_ about that!”

“You don’t understand…”

She trailed off as Sabah interjected in the background, this time far more distinctly, “What’s going on?”

“Apparently Lung is threatening June and me by proxy. He’s attacking Palanquin.”

“Not Palanquin directly,” I correct.

“June wants to come get us,” she continued, ignoring me.

“Is _demanding_ to come get you!”

There was some more rustling, the mic crackling a bit as the phone was clearly handed over. “June? This is Sabah.”

“Where are you?” I ask for the umpteenth time, desperately trying to calm down. I wasn’t sure I was succeeding very well. In fact, I was fairly confident I was failing miserably.

“Look, I’m trusting you with this because I know who _you_ are—” _Huh?_ “—but I need you to understand that I’m not like you. I seriously value my privacy, so you can’t tell anyone!”

I was starting to feel like I had somehow slid into another, different conversation without realizing it. “Um, okaaay…? Look, all I care about is getting you two to safety.”

“Right. Right, okay, I can do this.” She sounded like she was psyching herself up for something, which only confused me more. What was going on? “We’re… We’re at the Dollhouse.”

“… the what?”

She groaned, and in the background I heard Masuyo laugh nervously. “Do a search on your phone for the Dollhouse in Brockton Bay. You’ll find us.”

“Okay… Sure, whatever. Just get ready, ‘cause I’ll be there ASAP,” I replied before hanging up. _The Dollhouse?_ I thought to myself in exasperation as I pulled up my phone’s browser and typed into the search engine. _And she values her privacy? Is this Dollhouse some fetish thing?_ I vaguely remembered Jess mentioning something about a sex dungeon his cousin went to regularly, and I had idly looked into it on the internet before deciding _nope_ , I didn’t need to know anything further. Masuyo didn’t seem the type for something like that, but she hadn’t seemed the type to uproot her whole life either, and she proved me wrong there. 

I tapped the top result and the page began to load. A few seconds later I was greeted with a logo proclaiming _The Dollhouse_ at the top over a picture of a masked cape posing in front of a boutique clothes store, clothes seemingly floating in the air around her. The cape was full covered head to toe in old school clothes—Victorian, might have been the right description?—so it was hard to say for sure it was definitely Sabah… But with the context of her phone call?

_Well that’s a thing then._

It took a moment for me to shove aside my surprise and find the address amongst all the info about generally stocked items, specialty orders, and the like. I didn’t recognize the street name, but that was no surprise. Plugging it into my map app showed the store was basically only a couple of blocks off the main road in front of Brockton Bay University. I hadn’t been there, but the place was large enough that I had seen it before when flying around the city. I made a beeline towards it while sending a quick text to Faultline with an update, and the cold air whistling past me left me grateful I had donned my full costume.

 _Of course, it’s cold here, but back there?_ I thought as I looked to my side towards Palanquin and the still raging flames. “Fucking _asshole_ ,” I swore, equal parts livid and afraid. Faultline had driven home just how lucky I had been to survive my fight with Lung and Oni Lee as unscathed as I did. If they hadn’t been trying to keep me alive to forcibly recruit me, and I hadn’t been able to push my metal into elsewhere, then I almost certainly would have died. And now he had completely ignored the unwritten rules and nearly killed Masuyo who, like me, had only survived by luck—by being in the right place at the right time.

I could make out the lights of firetrucks here and there, vaguely scattered around the area but not moving in. _Likely waiting on that asshat to stop torching the place first._ How much of the area would be nothing but ashes by the time he was done? It was a disquieting thought.

It wasn’t long before I reached the university, and after a further minute of orienting myself using the map app on my phone, I found the boutique and touched down. The place was painted in bright, cheerful colors that were probably intended to be welcoming, though the effect was countered by the shutters over the windows. Not that I was surprised—it was Brockton Bay at night time, after all. The shutters wouldn’t prevent a cape with the right power from getting in, obviously, but they would be a decent deterrent against the average thief. They also served to obscure exactly what was inside, so there was that too.

I walked up to knock, but the door opened a crack before I could even raise my hand. Sabah’s face peeked through at me, just staring, and I impatiently asked, “Are you going to let me in, or are you two ready to go now?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she squeaked as she pulled the door open wide enough for me to come in and stepped aside with a beckoning gesture. “It’s just, this is the first time I’ve seen you in costume.”

I slipped in, and Masuyo was waiting by the counter with a tight smile. “It _is_ a unique experience, especially with the air filter changing your voice. I was a bit unnerved the first time I saw you costumed up in Philly.”

“Sure, sure, whatever,” I said, waving away that topic of conversation. “More importantly, are you two ready to go? We’re bunkering down at Palanquin.”

“I’ll be staying here,” Sabah denied with a shake of her head. She couldn’t have seen my surprised expression through my mask and goggles, but she must have read my reaction in my body language, since she went on to add, “I’m not known to be associated with you, and I have a business to run. School to go to as well.”

“That’s fucking stupid.”

“June!” Masuyo berated. “Don’t—”

“No, listen,” I cut her off. “You didn’t see the shit I just saw. Your apartment was bombed, Masuyo, and I don’t mean the usual explosion shit either. A big ass chunk of your apartment building is _glass_ now, and I don’t mean that metaphorically. PRT were all over investigating.”

“Oh my god…”

“Imagine they did that _here_ ,” I stressed to Sabah. She stared at me wide-eyed and with her mouth slightly agape in horror. “I don’t even know how the hell they figured out Masuyo and I are related to each other, so who the fuck knows what _else_ they might know. You gonna risk that just because of school and your business?”

“Sabah,” Masuyo murmured as she moved over to comfort Sabah, who had begun shaking. “I’m… I’m _so_ sorry. I didn’t think—”

“It’s… I’m okay,” she replied, sounding shaken.

“You don’t look okay,” I pointed out.

Masuyo shot me a withering glare, but what I had said actually shocked a strained giggle out of Sabah. “No, I suppose I don’t.” She shook her head and muttered something I couldn’t quite make out, though Masuyo must have, judging by her surprised reaction. Before I could ask, she spoke back up, “I’m staying. I have to risk it.”

“It’s not like you didn’t literally just have Meteor come knocking at your door, but _whatever_ , what do I know?” I said, baffled but not interested in pushing things. I barely knew her, after all. “Masuyo, _you’re_ coming, right?”

Another strained smile from her, this one aimed at Sabah. “I wouldn’t want to impose on your hospitality.” She leaned in and gave the far shorter woman a quick, chaste kiss. “I’ll see you… whenever this gets sorted.”

“I’d like that, yeah,” Sabah said with a tight smile of her own.

“I wasn’t that sappy with Elle earlier, was I?” I asked as Masuyo pulled away from Sabah and grabbed a bag off the counter.

“Not at all.”

“Oh thank—”

“You were far worse.”

“Well _fuck_ you too,” I replied, though there wasn’t any real heat in the words. Fondness, if anything. I was still trying to feel out exactly where the limits of our cousin-thing were, but there were some things that just needed to be said. I glanced at Sabah and asked, “Since you _are_ staying, it’s probably best to not fly away directly from here, especially while I’m still in costume. Could you whip up something with your power that I could wear over this, so we’re not so obvious while we move a block or two over?”

“I don’t magic clothes into existence,” she dryly pointed out. “My power only gives me control over lightweight stuff like cloth.”

 _Huh. That seems… really, really weak._ By some miracle of self-awareness, I managed to not say that aloud. I’d have to tell Masuyo later; she would be proud. Instead, I actually remarked, “So that’s a no then.”

“Well…”

* * *

“My god, what is Lung thinking?” Masuyo said as I flew us low across the rooftops back towards Palanquin, dodging around any active fires. It was risky, but Lung had to know I could fly using my power, so he was probably watching the skies for any sign of me. Down here we at least had some cover courtesy of the smoke and flames, though navigating through it all did present its own difficulty. “The Protectorate are going to be all over him for this.”

“Doesn’t he do this to Empire places all the time?” I asked. In truth, I didn’t _know_ that, not really. I had been too preoccupied with becoming a member of the crew and traveling to other cities to actually bother paying much attention to what the Bay’s gangs actually got up to. Faultline had said it was her general policy to _not_ take jobs in the Bay, so it just hadn’t seemed important enough to look into it. What I did know was Lung had made a big, showy blast of fire when he was berating his people the night I fought him. If he did that around his own gang, then surely he had no compunctions about torching an Empire stash house or something of a similar ilk.

“True,” she acknowledged as I steered the orbs I had surrounding her to follow me as I ducked around a corner. We only had a couple more alleyways to go through before we reached our meet up point with Newter. “And the heroes do punish that, but at the same time, it’s different. Those are Empire targets, with Empire members inside. These are _civilian_ houses. It’s not the same, not really.”

That was a fair point. It reminded me of how the heroes reacted whenever the Teeth came to town. Those bastards frequently moved around, though they had seemed to gravitate back to New York more often than anywhere else, and all hell tended to break loose the moment they showed themselves. The only reason they got away with it was because they were so goddamned ruthless and because the heroes couldn’t properly take out their leader: The Butcher. Or rather they could… but only if the person who struck the killing blow wanted to become the next Butcher. Reports varied about the _how_ of it all, and it sometimes took time, but eventually anyone who killed the previous Butcher would succumb and become the next in line. If it wasn’t for that, Legend probably would have blasted the bastard to smithereens by now, and the Teeth would have fallen apart.

Neither of us had anything further to say on that topic, and in short order we reached a manhole, which I tugged up into the air.

“Ugh, I should have known,” Masuyo complained as I maneuvered her to be upright over it and began to lower her into the hole. “Whose idea was it to use the _sewer_?”

“Mine,” Newter answered from below us as I hovered down after her and tugged the manhole back into place. “Best way to properly sneak around the city.”

He notably didn’t mention to her that he used to _live_ in the sewers of Richmond before Faultline found and recruited him based purely on rumors of his existence. He hadn’t even mentioned it to me until a few nights before Providence when I had asked what, if anything, he remembered about his past. Even then he had been hesitant, like it was something to be ashamed of. It hadn’t bothered me, and I had said as much at the time, mentioning that if CPS hadn’t picked me up, I might very well have moved in with The Blinds, a gang in New York whose members lived in and literally operated out of the sewer system. The cape who led them was apparently willing to take in anyone that would work for their keep.

“So Meteor, what’s up with the trench coat?”

I coughed, feeling a bit self-conscious. Sabah had provided it, saying it was some sort of item she had made for a client who wanted to cosplay as some character from an Earth Aleph movie. Apparently the guy who ordered it ended up not being able to pay in full, so Sabah had kept the deposit and the jacket. The thing was absolutely huge on me, but that meant it was able to cover up my costume without issues. I had taken off my goggles and air filter, put them in the backpack with my orbs, and pushed down my scarf until we were far enough away from the Dollhouse to not associate Meteor with her. Unless someone had seen my initial arrival or otherwise recognized my backpack as being the exact one used by Meteor in Providence, the only time I had used it in public, Sabah wouldn’t be tied to us.

“We wanted to hide my costume as we left, and this was… available. It looks dumb, I know.”

“I mean, it looks a bit silly for you to be wearing that big of a jacket, but if you had one that fit, I think it’d look kinda baller.”

I privately disagreed, preferring my armor, but— _Fuck! No, I’m_ Meteor _, not Fighter!_ I berated myself, frustrated at the slip up.

The talking died out after that, but that was fine. We didn’t have far to go. The smell of the sewer was… not great, but that wasn’t a surprise to me, since I had been through it once already. Masuyo was more vocal in her disgust, though not in a verbal way. She settled for a quick bout of seemingly involuntary gagging while she covered her nose and pinched her eyes shut. I wasn’t sure how closing her eyes was meant to help with the _smell_ , but in any event, we made quick progress, since Newter was extremely agile and I could outpace a car with my own power. In practically no time we were climbing up out of the sewers into the club’s loading bay.

“Wha— Why is there a sewer entrance in the _loading bay_?” Masuyo blurted, apparently recovered enough to talk now that she wasn’t surrounded by the odor of the sewer.

 _That… Huh. That’s actually a good question, now that she mentions it._ I looked to Newter inquisitively, and he supplied, “What you didn’t think Faultline would pay to have a secret exit installed? C’mon, I’m pretty sure she has backup plans through, like, _Plan Z_. I think the official story if the Public Works dudes show up is a work permit was approved to build the loading bay, and nobody realized it was being built over a manhole.”

 _And speaking of backup plans…_ “Faultline mentioned she already has a plan for Lung,” I told Masuyo. “Said we’d discuss it once everyone was safe and sound.”

She grimaced, likely thinking of Sabah, and replied, “Well let’s not keep her waiting then.”

Nobody had anything to add to that, and the three of us quickly and quietly made our way up to the meeting room. Faultline and Gregor were waiting inside along with Labyrinth and Shade, and even though the latter two hadn’t been awake when I had left, everyone was now fully costumed up.

“Good, you’re here,” Faultline said when we slipped in. She turned to me and said, “Your text had said you would be bringing along the girl from earlier as well—Sabah, was it?”

“Well, uh, that _was_ what I was going to do,” I remarked, looking to Masuyo for assistance. I wasn’t quite sure how to explain without giving up the other girl’s cape identity.

It turned out that much wasn’t necessary. “She appreciated the offer,” Masuyo answered in my stead, “but she isn’t tied to the crew in the same way and can’t drop everything as easily as I did.” And apparently that was satisfactory enough for Faultline, who gave her a simple nod.

“Very well then.” She leaned forward as the three of us took a seat. “I won’t mince words, everyone. This is not a good situation. That being said, matters should resolve in our favor as long as we tread carefully. For now, the plan is that we remain out of sight of the ABB.”

“You’ve looked out the window, right?” Shade asked incredulously.

“Yes, and if Lung intended to damage the club itself, he would have done so already,” she explained. “What he’s doing now, egregious as it is, is posturing. He’s trying to scare Meteor into leaving us to join the ABB. He will back off soon either because he feels his message has been sent or because the Protectorate will force him to. From what I’ve been able to determine in the limited time we’ve had, Armsmaster, Velocity, and Dauntless are already working to resolve matters, and more heroes are doubtlessly on the way. Injecting ourselves at this stage will only complicate matters, so as I said, the plan for now is to let the Lung situation resolve itself.

“As for the long-term? That’s a different matter, and there we have the upper hand.” She tugged a USB stick out of one of her costume’s myriad pockets and waggled it a little bit. “This is a copy of all the dirt we have on the ABB. How they’re laundering their money, PRT personnel they’ve compromised, known non-cape members—the works. It’s obviously not everything, but it’s enough to seriously hamper the ABB’s operations. If this gets leaked, they’ll need to scramble not only to make up the lost ground but to prevent a cascade failure from sweeping through their organization, and that will give the PRT and the Empire everything they need to truly cripple them. Lung may be the strongest cape in the Bay, but one man is not a gang, and without the financial structures, his fiefdom will fall to pieces. Even if Oni Lee sticks by him, two parahumans alone, no matter how strong, cannot hold out forever.”

“Blackmail, huh?” Newter remarked as he leaned back in his chair. “A bit anticlimactic, but hey, I ain’t complaining.”

I wasn’t either, but it felt… too easy. I believed Faultline when she said what the information could do, but I just couldn’t imagine Lung taking being blackmailed lying down. “You saw what I texted you, yeah?” I asked with a grimace that couldn’t be seen past my mask. “It can’t be a coincidence that Masuyo’s apartment building literally got turned into _goddamn glass_ the night Lung throws down the gauntlet. What’s to stop him from doing that _here_ —however it is he did it?”

“A fair point and what I was about to address next,” Faultline acknowledged with a nod as she tucked away the USB stick. “I don’t have confirmation yet, but there was a bomb threat at Cornell University at the beginning of the month. Though the primary threat never happened, the bomber decided to show they were serious at the start by setting off an isolated… well, ‘explosion’ doesn’t quite fit for what was, by all reports, a miniature black hole that lasted half a minute. That doesn’t precisely fit the situation you described, and the timing may just be happenstance, but the bomber was never caught, meaning it’s _possible_ Lung recruited them. I’m still working on that. Our main focus is determining whether the bomber had any likelihood of being Asian-American, which will be a strong indication one way or the other.

“In any case, I’ve called some of my people to make arrangements. If they don’t get a verbal, coded check-in from me personally on a regular interval, then they will release the information. I’ll of course be making that abundantly clear to Lung when I have our response conveyed. Needless to say, posthumous release of compromising data, while a deterrent, is not foolproof by any measure. To that end, we will be discreetly relocating other living quarters for now and generally flying below radar until further notice with one exception.

“Shade, Meteor: This matter with the ABB will eventually blow over, and if we’re to ensure we still have work lined up on the other end, we will need you two to make an appearance in the next couple of days.”

“Faultline, you can’t—” “You crazy or something?” “Wait, the fuck?”

Masuyo, Shade, and I all paused and shared a quick look at our simultaneous outbursts, and before any of us could continue, Faultline clarified, “We need to show we will not cave to pressure, but we need to be smart and safe about it. Having all of us show up in public at once is too big of a target, not just for Lung but also for the PRT, who may well decide they want to renew their efforts to catch us after what happened at UPenn. Meteor being present is the strongest play we can make, with Lung calling her out specifically and her ability to make metal inviolable, but she needs someone at her back should something happen. Shade is the best choice here on a general basis because of her power’s diversity, but in particular she should have a _very_ strong charge of Meteor’s power from all our time spent together, and if for some reason you don’t yet, then you start now, Shade.”

“I’ve got a charge of her stored up,” Shade confirmed. “Still seems pretty fucking crazy though. Might be able to surround ourselves with a shell in time and do her ‘elsewhere’ thing, but we ain’t got a guarantee that would save us. Fuck, might not even have the time for that much either.”

“It’s a risk,” our boss acknowledged, “and it’s one I’m willing to compensate you both for out of the crew’s general funds, since putting yourselves out there will be for the crew’s benefit as a whole.”

“Me too.” We all turned to Labyrinth, whose hands were balled up in fists on the table and shaking slightly. “Can help.”

“Labs,” I protested, the nickname slipping off my tongue, “we haven’t even agreed to this yet. It’s a _huge_ risk.”

“And a huge risk entails a huge reward,” Faultline seriously replied. “For all three of you, should you join them, Labyrinth. Take time and think on it, that’s all I ask. We have some time to consider. For now, I must regretfully ask you all to pack back up anything you unpacked from our trip to Philadelphia. I’ve got people making last minute arrangements at our safe house, and we will be moving there by sewer once we have the go ahead. Please stay suited up and awake, just in case. Dismissed.”

Gregor, Shade, and Newter all began making their way out, the latter two grumbling a bit about the situation. By unspoken agreement, Labyrinth, Masuyo, Faultline, and I remained behind, and once everyone else had left, I spoke up. “I’m… I’m, um, sorry about this. Like, all of this.”

And I was sorry. Truly. But even more than that, I was starting to feel… _excited_ about the thought of fighting Lung again. When I had been trying to get Masuyo to safety, all my thoughts had been on making sure everyone was safe, but once we were in Palanquin, the feeling had begun to swell in me and hadn’t stopped despite my best attempts to ignore it while listening to Faultline. God, what the fuck was even wrong with me? Faultline herself had said it before, I got _lucky_ last time. But even knowing that, I just couldn’t deny what I was feeling. Deep down I actually, truly wanted to fight Lung again. Before I had moved to the Bay, the most dangerous thing I had ever really done was lift wallets and phones off of rich fucks who could easily afford to lose them. There had been running drugs that one time too, I suppose, but I hadn’t actually known I was doing that at the time and didn’t take any of Rodriguez’ ‘special’ jobs after that. The most dangerous thing I had ever fantasized about was getting in on safecracker gigs in the future… then just a few days after getting my powers, I straight up jacked a safe within a few minute’s distance from the local Protectorate headquarters and used it to trap a guy who could literally become a fire breathing dragon.

 _Is something… wrong with me?_ I uncomfortably thought of my compulsion, the reason I had to carry coins everywhere with me. “This blackmail you have…” I asked, feeling the urge to distract myself from all these uncomfortable thoughts. “Did you put all that together because of me?”

“Not quite,” Faultline answered. I could hear the smirk in her voice. “I collect information like this on everyone who could act against us. It’s always good to have a plan B, after all. I took you on despite the risk it posed of angering the ABB because I knew we had this at our disposal.”

 _That makes sense,_ I thought with a nod. It was like Newter said: Faultline had backup plans for her backup plans. She had been in this game for who knows how long, and she was _successful_ at it. She knew what she was doing.

“I’ll do it.”

“Meteor,” Masuyo immediately pleaded, “stop and think about this! You heard her. Take some time, think about it.”

I shook my head. _Faultline thinks putting me out there is needed? Well… maybe I’ll get my fight after all._ “Not your decision. Sorry.”

“All the same,” Faultline calmly replied, a hint of something in her voice, “I want you to be certain. If you still feel the same this time tomorrow… Well, you know I won’t complain, and I _will_ compensate you for it.

“Get your things together—all of you. We’ll be leaving Palanquin again soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, June. There's definitely nothing wrong with you. It's totally normal to want a rematch with the Rage Dragon. Totally.
> 
> I love you all to pieces. Thank you as always for all your replies!


	35. Snare 4.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Juff on the Cauldron Discord for proofreading this chapter and providing feedback!

It took the better part of the day for Faultline to verify our threat of blackmail had reached the right ears in the ABB to get the message quickly to Lung. That meant we had to stay hidden for a bit, else we would be risking an attack by Oni Lee, the ABB’s mystery cape, or the dragon himself. ‘Mystery cape’ because, strictly speaking we didn’t _know_ it was this ‘Bakuda’ Cornell bomber, but Faultline had quickly found in her research that ‘Bakuda’ was a play on the Japanese word for bomb, ‘bakudan.’ Cornell was located in Ithaca, which was easily a six hour drive away, but with the Cornell bomber likely being Asian, it meant they were the most likely candidate by a stretch. There just weren’t that many capes whose power revolved around bombs.

That delay meant it wasn’t until late afternoon that Shade, Labyrinth, and I finally used the sewer system to move from the safe house back to Palanquin in full costume. The patrons who had been locked in last night while it was unsafe outside were nowhere to be seen, and the club didn’t seem to be ransacked. I had to presume they had been let out peacefully at some point once it was deemed safe. Whether many, if any, would return in the future was up for debate.

I tossed Pierce a tired wave as we exited the front door, which he returned. “So where to?” I groggily asked Labyrinth and Shade. Though I had managed to get some rest once we were situated in the safe house, the adrenaline had made it difficult to get to sleep at all, much less stay that way. Labyrinth had the same trouble, and we had ended up chatting about random, unimportant topics whenever we had both woken up at the same time and were trying to find our way back into slumber. Shade hadn’t said how her night had been, but it wasn’t hard to spot the weariness in her posture or movements.

“Fuck if I know,” Shade replied. “I guess you could just… fly us around?”

Labyrinth nodded in agreement, and I chuckled. “Sounds like patrolling. I thought only heroes did that.”

“First time for everything.” Shade snapped her fingers then said with an affected haughty tone, “Well, whatever are you waiting for, dearie? Up up.”

I smirked as I wrapped her and Labyrinth in my orbs and lifted them both into the air. Shade, however, I flipped upside down. “Right away, ma’am!”

“Good heavens!” she cried, still maintaining the demeanor from before. “You have me ass over teakettle, you silly woman!”

“My apologies, ma’am,” I replied with faux remorse that earned me some giggles from Labyrinth. “It’s just that your ass and your head are both so similar. I lost track of which was which!”

“Ooo, that was a good one,” she allowed, finally breaking character.

“Very,” Labyrinth agreed with an emphatic nod.

I wasn’t quite ready to relent though. “Your sense of fashion is also quite disorienting, if I may say so, ma’am.”

“Okay, we’ve had our f—”

“And with how active your ass is, well, it really is easy to mistake for talking, ma’am.”

“Oh my fucking god, when we’re done out here, it is _on_.” That might have had more impact if she hadn’t still been upside down, her scowl technically curling upwards in a parody of a smile. As it was, I just chuckled and corrected how I was holding her. It wouldn’t do for all the blood to rush to her head only for us to actually run into trouble.

Now that I wasn’t distracted by our little game, I couldn’t help but notice just how fucked the area was. For blocks all around us, buildings had been reduced to little better than scorched shells, and many were no longer standing at all. The devastation stopped a only a few corners down from the old community center I had seen a few times while flying, and I could just barely make out that a line of people was stretching out from the entrance, all of them looking haggard and most carrying an eclectic mix of possessions and in some cases pets—people who had clearly lost their homes.

“Stop it.”

“Huh?” I turned from the awful sight and saw Shade had her hands on her hips.

“Can’t see your face, but I don’t gotta. Can see the sad eyes you’re throwing their way all the same. Ain’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” I countered, feeling uneasy. “I didn’t burn their homes, but Lung did it because of me.”

Labyrinth didn’t have anything to say to that, but we already knew she would be quieter today. It wasn’t a bad day per se, but it certainly wasn’t a good one. The shift between them wasn’t always so cut and dry, and today was a day that fell into more of a gray territory. A four on a scale of one to ten with one being a _bad_ day.

Shade, however, had plenty to say, “And once upon a time somebody pissed in Lung’s cereal, and whabam! Now he runs around breathing fire on shit when he gets mad. Is that person responsible? What about the dude who cut him off in traffic? Or the lady who sneezed on him and didn’t apologize? Or—”

“I get it, I get it, but that doesn’t change that I feel bad.”

She shrugged. “I guess that’s fair. Ain’t nothing wrong with looking at a kicked puppy and feeling sorry for it. Just don’t lose your head over it or nothing is all I’m saying.”

“Food later?” Labyrinth remarked. Reading between the lines a bit, I could imagine she was suggesting using some of my money to buy some food to bring by, which really wasn’t a bad idea. I would have plenty to spare once Faultline paid us. We were being paid more than the job in Providence, even if I counted what had been advanced to me, and I didn’t have _that_ much I needed to buy other than some more clothes to round out what I had picked up in Philly and some furniture beyond the bed I had crammed up against Elle’s. Basically everything else was handled. I didn’t need to worry about hormones anymore thanks to Amy, Faultline considered having phones a team essential and deducted money for those before it reached any of us, and shit like rent was free for being on the crew. Maybe a laptop or something?

It was a… weird feeling having more money than I knew what to do with, since I had grown up having to hustle hard for what little I got. _It might be nice to… What is the saying? Pay it something…_

I was just about to ask the others when Shade’s head abruptly snapped to the side, catching us off guard. “What’s u—?” I started to ask only to be interrupted by the roar of a gun tearing through the air. I jerked to the side purely on reflex, not that it would have done me any good, since I could already feel the bullet hovering at a standstill by my right shoulder. _The fuck…?!_

We weren’t in an unpopulated area, and the people on the street below us began to scream and flee. “Down!” Labyrinth yelled, and as I hurried to move the three of us out of the line of fire, something hit my back _hard_.

My concentration slipped, and for a brief moment, we were all falling. I tried to quickly reassert my control over my orbs only for several objects to hit me all over, including one directly on the back of my head. Smoke was suddenly everywhere, and I couldn’t see where Labyrinth or Shade were. I was tired already from a poor night’s sleep, and the blow to my head had disoriented me enough that I was struggling to marshal myself again. I had to at least try and catch them. Blinded by the smoke, I had no way of knowing if my orbs were actually still around them or had been knocked away, but I had to to at least _try_. I grabbed hold of the orbs but felt resistance, and I thankfully had enough presence of mind to recognize the feeling of Shade trying to use my power and released my hold.

 _Thank fuck we practiced that,_ I thought as she let go of the the plating in my costume, and I caught myself instead. I couldn’t recall how close we had been to a roof, and with everything that had happened, I couldn’t tell which direction the roofs would have been in anyway. Not wanting to crash at speed into a hard surface, I shot up out of the smoke cloud to regain my bearings first. As I began to emerge from the cloud, something slammed into my shin and sent pain shooting up my leg. I cried out but stayed the course and fully emerged, only to flinch at the crack of another gunshot. Another bullet was on my side in an instant, but thankfully my power stopped it an inch before it could wreak havoc on my insides.

I had no idea whether my power was going to continue saving my ass—we had never shot actual, life-threatening guns at me in training—and that meant I couldn’t rely on it. I hastily checked where the bullet was pointing, and therefore where it had come from, and dove backwards to put the smoke between myself and the shooter. With my field of view finally clear of obstruction, I reoriented myself and made a beeline for the street below at the fastest speed I could muster, with the intent of putting a building between the shooter and me. No more gunshots rang out, but I heard something whistling through the air after me instead. I leveled out to parallel with the street as quickly as my physics-bound body could tolerate and twisted to the side when the whistling sound rapidly sped up. A huge chunk of concrete blazed through the space I had been occupying a mere second earlier, and I paled at what a close call that had been.

There was another gunshot, but this time there was no bullet on me. Oh fuck. The concrete swung back at me again, and I hurried to dodge while tapping my ear. “Are you two okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Shade said from wherever she was. “Bastards are trying to snipe me now. Trying to get over there, but they caught on.”

“Safe,” came Labyrinth’s quieter reply as I danced around the concrete once more only for it to be joined by two more just like it. “Rooftop heater.”

“I think this is Rune,” I told them as I pulled my orbs out of my backpack to fill the air and give me an edge. I couldn’t dodge forever, but thanks to my practice with the crew, I was a damn sight better now than I had been when I joined up. With my orbs making movement through the air difficult, I would be in good shape.

The loud crack of yet another shot filled the air, and Shade grunted out, “Fuck that was close! Rune’s the telekinetic toucher person, right? That’s the cape by you. Shooter’s at the edge of my range now, and there are two capes up there.”

Fucking hell, three capes? I had thought this was just Rune trying to get revenge, but having two other capes as backup made this a coordinated move by the Empire. And they had caught us on the back foot with an ambush while we were weary.

With the air now a veritable morass of metal, Rune pulled back her weapons to try and circle around my own swarm. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Rune!” I called out as I tried to figure out where she was. I could see some scattered people here and there who had fled for cover when the fight broke out, but there was no sign of the black robe I had once stolen. Switching tactics as I continued to block and dodge, I tried to taunt her out. “This is twice now you’ve jumped me from behind. I’m flattered really. The smoke bombs without metal are new. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Wherever Rune was, she didn’t rise to the bait. I was getting nowhere with this, so I sped over to a nearby alley to cut off her line of sight, if not draw her out of hiding. A couple was huddling together by a dumpster halfway down, and they both shrieked in surprise and probably not a little bit of fear as I shot past them. I craned my head to look behind me and saw Rune’s controlled items had tried to follow, but were banging against the walls or swinging at empty air in the hopes of getting lucky. Unfortunately the couple was in the line of fire of one of them, so with a twist of my power, I reshaped the dumpster into a shield around them with a narrow gap between the shield and the wall for them to flee later. While I was distracted, the other two abruptly zeroed in on me, and my efforts to dodge still resulted in glancing blows to legs that pulled a yelp of pain from me.

I would have thought she had reestablished direct line of sight, but reaching out to the dumpster had made me properly pay attention to the metal in the alley, and I started in surprise when I realized there was a camera discreetly adhered to the wall. Worse yet, there were a myriad of them scattered everywhere in the area, all the same shape, size, and weight. I flexed my power to crush them all as I weaved between strikes from the bat and the sandbag, then fled to the end of the alley before making my way up to just shy of the roof level and peeking over. Rune was nowhere in sight still, but that made sense. She wouldn’t have needed to if she could see everything nearby. This wasn’t just a spur of the moment ambush; this was a planned, coordinated attack, and that made checking back in on the others all the more important.

“Is everyone still okay?”

“Pinned for the moment but okay,” Shade reported back, while Labyrinth simply answered, “Yes.”

I scanned the rooftops for the heating unit Labyrinth had mentioned earlier, but there were too many, and she wasn’t in sight either. “Labs, can’t find you. Give me a sign?” A few moments later a sapling began to grow off to my right out of a unit across the street. _Dammit_. “Found you, but Rune will probably spot me if I move to you. I’ll have to try and distract her.”

I ducked back down and into a different alley, only moving down towards the street once I had verified nobody was in it this time. I reached the junction quickly and moved up to check around the corner while also checking to make sure more cameras hadn’t gone up somehow, but Rune was still nowhere in sight. Plan B then. A few cars were parallel parked further down the way, and if I lifted them in the air, then I might be able to turn the villain’s attention that way and buy myself time to jet across the street and regroup with Labyrinth. It was a gamble, but if I could get to her, then together we would have a much better chance of fighting off attacks and could plan retrieving Shade and escaping. Fighting the Empire had _not_ been the plan today.

A problem with my distraction plan became clear when I realized there were a couple of people sheltered in place by them. If I moved the cars, then they would be left exposed. There was a sniper in play, and misfires might happen. Hell, they might just take the opportunity to gun down the Hispanic guy I could see from where I was—or any other person of color, for that matter. My mind made up, I started to grab the manholes I could see instead, but I stopped when one of the people behind the cars peeked out then tried to sprint for the closest alley. The sniper fired again, and to my horror, the runner immediately crumpled to the ground with a scream and tumbled for a moment before losing momentum altogether. Plenty of people nearby cried out in alarm, but none of them moved to help the one who had been shot.

 _Holy fucking shit._ I raced out into the street towards the person who had been gunned down and saw a pool of red had already begun to form under them. _Oh my god, this is so bad!_

The essentials of trauma first aid was something Faultline had drilled into me prior to Providence. Hell, those essentials had been used _on_ me after Providence. _Put pressure on the wound… Elevate above the heart… Don’t move the injured unless you absolutely must…_ I somehow doubted they would help much with a bullet wound from a _goddamn sniper rifle_ though. Once I was closer, I could see it was a white girl around my age who had her hair bundled up in a dark blue knit hat. Her matching jacket was already turning purple from the amount of blood she was losing, and though she was still moaning in pain, she was otherwise not moving.

Nobody else was hiding behind the vehicle she had fled from, so I tugged it over to give us some measure of shielding in case the sniper decided to shoot again, the goddamn psycho. Weren’t the Empire all about protecting white supremacy or whatever? Why had the bastard shot this girl then? She wasn’t in a costume—she was in sweatpants for chrissakes—so surely they didn’t mistake her for one of us?

I started to ask ‘Are you okay?’ only to realize that was a _stupid_ question and tried again. “Where did you get hit? Can you put pressure on the bleeding?”

“Under me,” she said, her voice high and strained as she tried to shift only to immediately settle back into the same position. “Can’t reach.”

Well shit. I was going to have to move her to elevate the injury and get pressure on it. _Two out of three will have to do_ , I thought as I pulled out my phone. I dialed 911, put the phone on speaker, and set it down. “Okay, I’m going to help you roll over. It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker, sorry…”

“Okay…” she whimpered, and as I laid my hands on her jacket to turn her onto her back, she gripped my arm.

“911, what is your emergency?” my phone projected when an operator picked up.

“There’s a person wo—” I started to answer only to be tugged forward. The girl, who had released my arm, grabbed a hold of my scarf with her bare hands, and when I tried to shove her off, my arm swung back and struck at my eyes instead, shoving my googles into my skin. A moment later, my scarf tugged itself down from my mouth and wrapped so tightly around my throat I was seeing spots.

“Hello, ma’am?” came the voice from the phone. “What is your emergency?”

 _Goddammit, you’re really going to swing this low, Rune?!_ I thought—there was nobody else it could be. I hadn’t expected her to play the injured bystander at all. She quickly moved pieces of concrete over the openings for my hip cases and backpack and laid her hands on them each in turn for several long seconds. I tried to force the hip cases open to hit her with some caltrops or some pepper spray, but I couldn’t manage it with the concrete being held in the way.

“Hello, are you still there? What is your emergency?””

She dropped me and the concrete unceremoniously on the ground, and I grunted in pain as my knees struck the sidewalk. My scarf loosened its grip on my throat, but she traded that for reaching out to choke me manually instead while holding my arms down by controlling my bodysuit.

“Oh wow, I’m _so sorry_ ,” Rune said apologetically and somewhat breathlessly. She was sweating hard and eying me intently as she slowly tugged a domino mask out of her unstained jacket pocket and slipped it over her eyes. She grimaced, clearly straining, and it wasn’t from trying to choke me, though she was doing unfortunately well with that. “My friend and I… Bit drunk, sorry. Embarrassing for a Sunday afternoon, but we were celebrating. Just realized she dialed you.”

I tried to grab the car next to us and slam her with it, but it resisted. Because _of course_ she had fucking touched it _._ She did flinch though, and when I tried to do it again, she groaned. _Does she have a limit?_ I was starting to see black at the edge of my vision, and I tried to reach out to my orbs, but it was _so hard_ to focus.

“We’ll have to send you a patrol car by to verify,” the operator continued, entirely unaware I was beginning to black out from a lack of air and trying desperately to get free.

I redoubled my efforts to hit her with the car, and the pinched look on her face and sweating became worse, but she managed to hold on. “Kingston and St. Marshall,” she said, the words all but squeezed out of her throat. “Gonna barf.”

She reached over to grab the phone with her free hand and hurled it down the street, then she abandoned choking me herself in favor of using my scarf again. I felt her control over my hip cases cease as she laid her hand on the sidewalk under herself, and I tried to muster the will to pelt her with something— _anything_ —but I had only managed to get a few out before a chunk of the sidewalk ripped itself and she zoomed up and away from my line of sight.

Was she going to kill me? The unwritten rules said no, but they had already been ignored once today in the early hours of the morning; there was nothing to say it wouldn’t happen again, and that _terrified_ me. I wanted to claw at my throat, tear the scarf apart, but I couldn’t even fucking move my arms to manage that much. Helpless, choking—just waiting to die, my trigger all over again. Even if she didn’t kill me… wouldn’t worse be in store? I would be at the mercy of savages with a thinly layered coat of respectability painted over them, the Teeth with swastikas on top.

Perhaps it was the delirium setting in that made me imagine Kaiser as the Butcher, with bone ornamentation mixed in with his spiky metal armor. It was certainly tricking me into thinking my scarf was loosening… but no, a few seconds later I realized I could _breathe_ again. I thought the bitchsicle might be taunting me, giving me a glimmer of hope before crushing it under her heel, but then I heard Rune herself blurt out from somewhere up and some distance back, “What the fuck?!”

Metal was blossoming all around me, I realized, and for the briefest of moments, I wondered if the conspiracy theories on PHO about second triggers were true. I greedily drank in more air, gasping to get as much of the beautiful substance in me as I could, and it hit me that I _knew_ this metal—or rather, I knew its shape.

The car next to me started to jostle, but I grabbed it and held it down.

“No, fuck you! I fucking had you, you son of a bitch!” Rune screamed in fury, and I pulled myself upright with my power and turned to look at her through a familiar visor. The sound of something hurling through the air reached me, and remembering how she had struggled to control several things earlier, I grabbed all three of the cars near us. She buckled, collapsing to one knee on her makeshift platform, and I managed to rip a door free from the car by me. Just like the trunk had when she’d tried to drown me, ripping a piece of the whole free apparently severed her control, and I slammed it against the piece of concrete that had been aiming for my head out of the air.

I only had a moment of uninterrupted time, but it was all I needed. I unslung the bow from where it laid across my chest while an arrow leapt to my hand, and I nocked it in an instant and sent it flying towards her. She tried to move to the side, but she was hampered from trying to control too much, and I had accelerated my projectile to a blistering pace. She failed to dodge, and it shot clean through her, rocketing out the other side. Like a puppet with its strings cut, the platform under her feet dropped out of the sky, and she tumbled down with it. She should have crashed violently into the ground—she _deserved_ to—but on instinct I moved to catch her, killing her momentum by redirecting it with my own leap forward through the air.

Now that she was no longer in danger of splattering the pavement with her guts—thoughts of ‘Tammicakes’ made my lips twitch minutely—I softened my landing with a quick flex of my power, then I negligently tossed her on the ground. I doubted she could have rallied herself in time to touch my armor, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I summoned my orbs to me and melted some into a makeshift cage on the ground over her that I pushed into elsewhere. Rune would be going nowhere anytime soon.

I looked up at the top of the building by where Rune had been choking me and smiled at the sight of Labyrinth’s green robe. When I remembered she wouldn’t be able to see that through my helmet, if not the sheer distance between us, I gratefully waved and called out, “ _Thank you_.”

“Happy to,” I heard her say in my ear. It hadn’t been lost in the shuffle? I was impressed yet again by her ability to catch the small details, leaving behind the earpiece while changing the rest of my costume from Meteor’s to Fighter’s. The armor she had crafted for me in the graveyard at Octavia’s command had saved me—an irony that wasn’t lost on me.

_Every time I try to forget that bitch, something brings it right back. At this rate, I’ll never get over it..._

The fight wasn’t over yet though, as the sound of gunfire a few blocks over reminded me. “Jesus, motherfucker is never gonna go down at this rate,” Shade complained into our comms. “If you two are done over there, I could really use some help with getting Othala out of the picture.”

“Othala?” I asked, feeling strangely numb now that Rune was battered and beaten at my feet. I knew that name from somewhere, but I couldn’t recall where I had heard it. An Empire cape, that much was obvious, but… “Power?”

Most people might not have been able to decipher my short, clipped statements, but Shade seemed to understand well enough. We all got enough practice with Labyrinth, after all. “Othala grants powers to people she touches. Makes you invincible, heals you, eat coal and shit fire—whatever.”

That startled a brief laugh out of me, and I was grateful for it. My heart was thundering from all the adrenaline pulsing through me, and my lungs and throat still burned from being choked for what felt like ages. And the helplessness... Fuck, a laugh was _very_ welcome. “The other?” I pressed her as I flew up to get Labyrinth, now that Shade had managed to shake me out of the funk that had started to take hold.

“Sucks skills outta people in his range. Permanently, if he does it long enough. Name’s Victor, but you probably know him as one of the sons of bitches _who made me trigger._ ”

Labyrinth’s full-face mask was designed with protection in mind, not expressing emotion, but despite everything but her eyes being obscured, I could still read her shock as clear as day. The look on my face probably wasn’t much different. There was only one way I could possibly respond to my friend announcing the presence of a cape who had helped force her to kill her own brother.

“Shit.”

And just to add insult to injury, that announcement was punctuated by the arrival of three regrettably familiar costumes below us. “Labyrinth, unknown parahuman—stand down!” Battery barked as she skidded to a halt and the glow of the circuitry lining her costume began to grow. Blurs of red and of green and bronze arrived right on her heels—Assault and Boudicca. “Stop and surrender yourself to PRT custody. _Now_!”

I looked to Labyrinth once again, and in two words perfectly encapsulated our situation and all its varied, intricate minutia. “Double shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I checked my profile stats page today, and I am literally blown away there are 32 people watching Luster here on AO3. If y'all don't feel up to participating, that's okay. I hope you do sometime soon, even if it's just a quick little comment, and I hope you enjoy the story along the way!
> 
> What do y'all think of Rune's plan? FYI, it should be apparent from the earlier E88 interludes that Rune was only going to knock her out, though June wasn't wrong to think she wouldn't have liked what followed... I'm also sure plenty of you picked up the fact Victor was involved in Aisha's trigger, and now June knows too. The Empire is really bad at this making people trigger business, huh? Also, if anybody was thinking we were past the third arc and wouldn't be seeing more of 'Fighter'... The effects of the girls' trauma aren't going away anytime soon.


	36. Snare 4.6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you once again to Juff on the Cauldron Discord for proofreading this chapter and providing feedback!

“Stop and stand down!” Battery repeated herself when we didn’t respond. “This doesn’t have to get worse if you cooperate!”

“This isn’t what it looks like,” I blurted before realizing how damning that sounded. 

“Again,” Labyrinth whispered, making it clear she thought that was a bad response too.

Shaking my head, I hastily added, “The Empire attacked us—are still attacking us. I, um… incapacitated Rune when she tried to choke me.”

Battery literally blurred as she moved at high speed over to the cage I had formed. “Console, get EMT here now. Rune is down and bleeding out.”

Well shit, that really wasn’t going to help our case. We needed to get the fuck out of here before the heroes tried to force us to come in, which wasn’t going to happen. Preferably without fighting them, since the last thing the crew needed right now was to piss off the Protectorate and PRT again, and this time in our home city… also again. We had only just barely smoothed things over after the hospital. The problem with escaping was any two of the heroes present would be a significant obstacle together because of how their powers synergized. Assault and Battery were well known for how their powers played off of each other, and Boudicca should in theory be able to swap out for either of them without ruining the general makeup of the combo.

It was an issue I didn’t know how to solve, so I focused on damage control for the moment. Even if we got away, we needed them to realize we really were attacked by the Empire and defending ourselves. “Witnesses!” I called out to them, pointing out the people who had been sheltering from the fight that were still present. “These people can testify it was self-defense!”

Battery was trying—and failing—to lift the cage off of Rune while Assault jogged over to some of the people nearby to corroborate what I had said. I pulled the cage out of elsewhere and turned it into liquid before the hero could pull a muscle trying to lift the immovable object. She started a bit at the cage collapsing but recovered quickly and moved to staunch the bleeding.

“They’re booking it!” Shade said over our comms.

And fate provides, I thought with a smile. If we claimed the Empire was fleeing, then one of the heroes would almost certainly go to verify, and one of them—likely Battery—would have to stay with Rune and the witnesses, since the villain was bleeding pretty badly. That left only one hero to ditch, which would be significantly easier.

Mind made up, I relayed to the heroes, “Othala and Victor are getting away,” before quietly adding just over our comms, “get ready to get the hell out of here, everyone.”

Battery looked over at Assault, who was already running back over to where she and Boudicca were, and though I could see they were quickly but quietly conferring, I couldn’t hear what was being said from up here. What I did hear, however, was Shade’s reply. “Fuck that! Get over here and get me! I’m not letting him get away!”

Oh shit. I hadn’t expected that response, but I probably should have. “Shade,” I whispered, looking to Labyrinth in a panic, “Faultline would want us to retreat. We’ve got to go.”

“Should leave,” Labyrinth agreed. Down below us, Assault was punching Boudicca’s upper arm. As I recalled, her power was the inverse of what you would expect. Being hit made her offense better at the expense of defense, and hitting someone made the opposite happen. Was being faster part of her offensive boost? I couldn’t recall but had to assume it was.

I could hear Shade’s huffing from exertion through the line. Was she running? Climbing? “Don’t you dare bail on me,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare. I need you two.”

I grit my teeth. If the crew hadn’t saved us, we would still be Octavia’s slaves. On top of that, Shade had been badly injured at the library too and would still be out of commission if Sakura hadn’t been nearby to give her a convenient regeneration power. We owe her.

Boudicca leapt and reached the roof by us in a single jump with obvious ease. Fucking hell, she’s a monster when she’s boosted. “Where?” she asked. What little we could see of her expression was set in a frown. It didn’t escape my notice either that the metal parts of her outfit had been replaced with something else. They looked the same, but I couldn’t feel any part of her outfit with my power.

I was familiar with the feeling of our earpieces through my power, and I could feel Shade running west and nearly out of my range, roughly proceeding towards BBU. I grit my teeth and, remembering the Empire was mostly present in the southern parts of the city, pointed south towards downtown. “Shade reported they’re fleeing south two streets west of here.”

The hero immediately sprinted to the roof’s edge and leapt not to the next building over but the building past it. She was already jumping up to the next one when Assault began to bounce his way up to the roof we were on, ricocheting back and forth between two buildings. Once he had reached our level, he asked, “So did Faultline pick up another cape, or am I remembering your voice correctly, Meteor?”

“You actually remember me?” I replied, dumbfounded as I took a step between him and Labyrinth. After the library at UPenn, I would be shocked if they didn’t have a standing capture order on us, and I would be able to tank a hit better if he made a move. I remembered Faultline describing him as a kinetic energy manipulator, and Battery must have punched him hard to give him enough to scale a building this tall. Could he store unused energy? How much might he have left? “I… suppose I’m supposed to be flattered or something?”

He chuckled and said, “Your crew did a number on Boodie and me. Hard to forget.” His body language was easy-going, and he didn’t sound pissed off about what happened, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He wasn’t the only one who remembered Providence; namely, I recalled how easily Loki had tricked me into letting down my guard. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice if I could help it.

I felt a small spike of metal begin to grow out of the roof by his foot, and I sent a silent thank you to Labyrinth. I had been in the process of melting the dumpster in the alley behind Assault, but I abandoned that effort in favor of focusing on what she had provided me. I didn’t stop pulling my orbs discreetly towards our position though, since we would need to get out of here soon.

“This is a hell of a costume change,” Assault remarked before soberly adding, “Looks like the getup you had in Philly.”

Warning bells were going off in my head as I stared at him. “Something like that,” I agreed as I quickly turned the spike into liquid and tried to wrap it around his ankle.

Assault leapt forward towards us without warning, completely dodging my trap without so much as looking at it. I instinctively reached for one of my swords only to realize I wouldn’t have time and pushed my armor into elsewhere instead. He made to punch me in the breast, and a look of confusion marred what I could see of his face when he connected and nothing happened. My swords weren’t connected to my armor and could still be moved, so I swung them around through my power in a pincer attack. He fell backwards out of the way, and though the slapdash dodge should have put him at a disadvantage, he bounced off the rooftop with just enough rotation to put him facing back towards us. The walls of a maze began to rise up out of the roof, but the growth was too slow to properly catch the hero off balance.

This was a fight we couldn’t afford, not if we were actually going to help Shade. I whirled around as I put the swords between us, and grabbing Labyrinth, I rocketed away with my orbs moving to follow, all subtlety abandoned. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see Boudicca had reversed course and was only a block away or so, which meant my efforts to try and split up the heroes had failed entirely. What did surprise me, though, was the familiar drone flying not far from her that I could see but couldn’t sense. What was Reconnoiter doing here, much less with a drone I couldn’t detect?

We were going to be outmanned and outgunned soon. We needed to get to Shade now.

“Hold on,” I yelled to Labyrinth, then I dove into the alleyways and pushed us as fast as my power would allow westward towards where I had last felt Shade.

“Control lost,” Labyrinth said a moment later, and Shade came into my range right after. We had passed the edge of Labyrinth’s zone, which meant she couldn’t contribute again until some time after we had stopped. It also meant my armor would eventually begin reverting to Meteor’s costume, and that might cause our flight to go haywire when it did.

Could this situation get worse? I thought as I twisted us around to look backwards without breaking our momentum westward. Assault and Boudicca were both hot on our heels, and my orbs were behind them and unable to catch up—I was already at my limit. The only thing going in our favor was the drones—and I noticed there was a second, which probably explained how Assault knew to jump—were clearly unable to keep up with the high speed chase.

“We’re coming in hot with Assault and Boudicca,” I announced over comms. “Drones behind them. Look like Reconnoiter’s, but I can’t feel them.”

“Can you handle them?” Shade gasped out between sucking in gasps of air. A gunshot rang out, and I heard her curse but not yell in pain. “Outta my charge of you. Only got some of Faultline ‘n’ Gregor with a bit of Othala.” She could have built up some of Labyrinth’s or Newter’s powers, but the risk was too much for her to bother. She would knock herself out with Newter’s power the moment she reverted to any form other than his, and Labyrinth’s power was almost certainly what affected her mental state, and there was no telling how it would interact with Shade’s power if used.

The heroes were catching up, and though I tried to hit them several times with metal we passed, they managed to dodge every time. “Honestly? I really doubt it. They’d cream me.”

“Get to me, and I’ll make you able to handle them.”

That could only mean she was going to use her charge of Othala to boost me somehow. The question of how remained, but at this point, we needed any edge we could get. We were almost on her, but the heroes were still tailing us. We needed to ditch them if we were going to have any real chance at capturing Victor, but that was easier said than done. They might not be able to fly, but they had caught up to the point they kept pace with us on the rooftops. I might be able to lose them in the alleys if we got really lucky, but I seriously doubted I could manage it before the drones got to us, and who only knew what detection equipment they were stuffed with.

That left doing something stupid and reckless.

This is either going to be amazing or fucking terrible, I thought with no small amount of dread as we moved into position parallel over a street with cars everywhere, both in motion and parked. I reached out to the roof of an immobile one coming up and prepared to rip it free, then I metaphorically crossed my fingers and yelled, “Sorry in advance!” to Labyrinth loud enough to be heard over the rush of wind. 

I threw her up into the air.

Labyrinth hadn’t expected to be tossed around like a sack of potatoes, if her shriek of terror—and possibly a bit of indignation—was any indication. The heroes meanwhile were caught between trying to figure out whether they needed to intervene to save Labyrinth’s life and figuring out what I had planned as I changed my angle of flight, putting me on an intercept course with them.

The problem with their power synergy, or more specifically how they approached it, was they generally moved in close proximity. Maybe Battery and Boudicca couldn’t aim for shit, but in theory, they could have just thrown an object at Assault with the same results—in theory. What I knew of them from Faultline and PHO said they didn’t do that, and sure enough, Boudicca moved to close the gap between her and Assault, her arm already cocked back to hit him. A burst of energy to give him what he needed to catch Labyrinth.

I messily tore the roof off of the car up ahead, making a point to let the metal screech as I tugged it free. In the moment their eyes flicked that way to figure out what was happening, I made my move. I moved in between the now close together heroes, pulled the arms and upper back of my armor free in one clean piece, and promptly shoved into elsewhere directly in front of them. My focus at that point was almost entirely on catching Labyrinth with the car roof, a task I managed without issue, but it was impossible to ignore the scream and the sound of bones shattering behind me.

My best guess at my maximum speed was 45 miles per hour. I had never measured it exactly, but that ballpark figure was more than sufficient for illustrating consequences. Assault, who could redirect the energy of his impact, would at worst have his momentum killed when he struck an immovable object. Boudicca though, for all her current amplified strength and agility, was no more durable than I was. I wasn’t smart enough to even remotely guess the exact numbers for how much force her ribcage had just been hit with, but I did know seatbelts were a thing for a reason.

I caught Labyrinth halfway to the ground as I left Assault in the dust, scrambling to help Boudicca hit him enough to recover. I had to hope he would manage it and that they wouldn’t bear too large of a grudge. We zipped past the abruptly quasi-convertible car, and I diverted us into the alley that I could feel Shade running down, slowing down only enough to let my orbs finally catch up.

Labyrinth smacked my bare arm—hard—then a second and third time before making her thoughts on my stunt crystal clear with only two words, “Never again.”

“Yes dear,” automatically slipped from my lips, which earned me another smack in the same spot as the first three. “Ow, fuck, I mean it! Really!”

Shade was looking over her shoulder at us as we closed the gap with her running—more jogging at this point, with how winded she obviously was—but that was no surprise. Even if she hadn’t been able to sense our approach and general location via her power, my yelps from Elle smacking me would have given us away. I slowed down just enough to properly grab Shade by wrapping her in orbs, then we were off.

“Where are they?” I asked, wishing I could rub away the sting on my arm. For the moment though, my arms were occupied with holding Labyrinth to me. I wasted no time in pushing us up to speed and dodged down an intersecting side alley between the backs of the buildings.

“They were heading that way when I lost them,” she said as she pointed. “That was just a minute ago. Couldn’t have gotten far.”

They could have, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to point that out. “Okay. Need to swap to carrying us all with orbs before—”

Of course that was the moment I felt the armor Labyrinth’s had birthed begin to vanish. The effect wasn’t immediate, more or less a same speed rewind of how it had come to be, but it meant I had to immediately slow to a stop and set us down.

“What’re you doing?! They’re going to get away!” Shade all but yelled at me.

That made the past several minutes of tension catch up to me all at once. I whirled towards Shade the instant Labyrinth was on the ground and got up in her face. “We had to risk our hides to get over here to help you, not to mention me breaking god knows how many of Boudicca’s bones. We might’ve crashed as Labs’ power unwound my armor, so fucking excuse me for taking a goddamn second to make sure we didn’t crash to the ground and have half our skin ripped off from high speed road rash!”

Shade’s domino mask made it hard to read her emotions based on her eyes, but the rest of her face made the barely restrained fury obvious. “They’re going to get away,” she repeated obstinately, her voice a growl and her jaw set.

My arm twitched as I fought down the urge to punch her for being so goddamn thick. The feeling of soft fingers on my bare skin pulled my attention away from thoughts of violence, and the sight of Labyrinth gently holding my arm calmed me down. I took a deep, centering breath and quickly ran through an inventory of what remained of my costume after my little stunt. Everything from my breast down was more or less fine, including all the metal plating and my hip cases, but the upper chest and arms of my bodysuit were gone, leaving tattered edges behind. My backpack was lying on the ground behind me with part of its straps gone, and likewise my sports bra was missing a portion of its shoulder straps. I was worried for a moment I might accidentally flash everyone, but it seemed the clingy fabric of my body suit was going to hold up. All the same, I melted some of my orbs and made a sort of wrap around strap that combined with the black metal of my breastplate. The sudden transition from black to silver metal probably looked tacky as hell, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

“And now that I’m confident I’m not going to maim us all by losing control mid-flight, we can go,” I replied as I pulled my backpack to my back with my power and fashioned some makeshift metal straps out of metal orbs.

“Good,” she muttered. It was quiet enough that I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it, and my eyebrow twitched in response, but I managed to let go and focused on wrapping the two of them in my orbs and taking off.

I pushed us up to speed and followed Shade’s directions, moving westward while flying low to ensure we didn’t go too high for her to detect the Empire capes. For a worrying minute, I thought we really might have lost them. Shade was growing visibly more agitated the longer we flew in silence, and I honestly didn’t know what she would do if we didn’t find them. More distressingly… I didn’t know what she would do if we did find them either. 

“Could they have started south?” I hesitantly asked, worried how she might respond.

“I don’t know,” she bit out through clenched teeth. “I don’t fucking—THERE!”

Shade jabbed her finger to the southwest, and I immediately adjusted course. She gave me a few more corrections until she brought us to a stop. There was nothing but regular street traffic below that was waiting on a red light. What immediately caught my attention was how the cars and passerby were acting. Nobody was freaking out that capes were driving a car among them, nor were they trying to flee, to get out of the villains’ way. If Shade hadn’t insisted they were here, I would have had no idea.

We had caught Victor and Othala, but we had caught them unmasked.

“Shade… This isn’t a good idea,” I warned, immediately uncomfortable with being here. Going after the Empire capes now would be a flagrant violation of the unwritten rules, on par with what Lung had done to Masuyo’s apartment.

Labyrinth agreed as well, chiming in, “The rules.”

Our friend didn’t reply, simply staring down at the cars below. Her face had been tight with anger since we picked her up after ditching the heroes, but now there seemed to be conflict in her expression. The bared teeth were gone, and in their place her lips were drawn into a thin line, twitching as if she was fighting off a scowl. Likewise her hands were clenching and unclenching into fists. I wanted to say more, to reassure her doing nothing was the right course of action… but I couldn’t. There was an aura of agitation hanging over us all, and I knew a single misstep, the wrong action, and it would all come crashing down.

The red light below finally shifted green, and traffic began to inch forward, the accordion effect slowing the progress down as it always did.

Shade broke the silence. “Let’s go.”

I sagged in relief as the tension dissipated. “We’ll figure something else out,” I assured her as I started to turn us around, adjusting the orbs when I felt Shade shift around a bit. “We’ll talk to Faultline, see if we can’t—”

The sound of tearing metal filled the air.

I whirled back around in horror. I had thought Shade was adjusting her posture when I felt the pressure on my orbs move, but she had transformed into me. I stared down on the street below, completely paralyzed at the sight of twin spikes jutting at an angle out of a red sedan.

“I had to.”

Guts and blood were smeared across the improvised spears, dripping down on the roof of the car. The peace of everyday business was shattered. The people on the sidewalks were screaming and running in terror, and the cars that had been queued for the intersection were running into each other, trying to bump one another out of the way as they all tried to flee at once.

“They killed Brian. I had to.”

Shade and the rest of the crew had put their lives on the line to rescue us from Octavia. Yes, they had taken preparations to avoid being mastered themselves, but all it would have taken was one misstep. One mistake, and they would have been that bitch’s slaves like we had been, forced to dance at her command without even realizing they were caught. I owed her my life—had risked antagonizing the Protectorate instead of fleeing—but this…

“I hope it was worth it,” I said, the words coming out empty and hollow.

She said something in response, but I wasn’t listening anymore. The orbs I had been using to carry her fused together in an instant, becoming a seamless entity, and I started to shove her down towards the car. She fought it—of course she did—and for several long moments, she vibrated mid-air as we warred for control over the metal holding her. It didn’t last. I began to win because in the end, that was her power’s nature. She could be anyone, do anything, but there was a time limit, and that limit drained all the quicker when she used her borrowed powers. She could be anyone, do anything, but there would always be a limit.

She would always be Shade in the end.

Shadows flared over her again and again as she tried to fight me off, but the metal encasing continued its intermittent jumps closer and closer to the car. She yelled and screamed at me the whole time. I heard her, heard the words, but I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t. I kept pushing her away, and I pulled us further and further away from her. We both had limited ranges, but mine stretched for blocks. She would lose, and she knew it. We eventually crossed the event horizon, and I planted her right next to what she had done

I left her there. Left my friend for the heroes to lock away, staying only long enough to keep her trapped in elsewhere. All three of them—Battery, Assault, and Boudicca—came in the end, and though a small part of me was relieved to see Boudicca unharmed, the feeling was overwhelmed by doubt.

Did I do the right thing? “Let’s call Faultline,” I whispered to Labyrinth, hiccuping lightly as I cried freely.

She reached out and squeezed my hand, but said nothing, letting me grieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on that depressing note...
> 
> I think we've all earned a couple chapters away from action, don't y'all? We're going to take a step back for a tick and focus on our cast for a bit because that just happened. This isn't the last we've seen of Shade, but I think it's safe to say things are never going to be the same.
> 
> Edit 02/06/21: Fixed a missing word typo.


	37. Snare 4.7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Juff on the Cauldron Discord for proofreading this chapter and providing feedback, especially with regards to the ending!

“Most of the capybara have managed to evade the crushing coils of the green anaconda, but not all are so fortunate. This is the price the non-dominant males pay as the sentinels of the group.”

Nature shows weren’t really my thing, but Elle generally liked them, and I wasn’t feeling up to going out. Hadn’t been in some time. I idly watched the group of herbivores make their way through the muddy waters to safety while I made some coins lazily float just over the floor in a gentle loop. Fingers were carding through my hair and gently running along my scalp, and I was losing myself in them. Just as you could hand Elle a toothbrush with toothpaste on it and she would brush her teeth, I had plopped my head in her lap, and she had started in on my dark locks.

I didn’t think we had said anything all day, but that was how things had been since our disastrous ‘patrol.’ Elle had continued her downward slide, and it had been the same for me in a way.

“Girls, we’re going out,” Melanie said from somewhere behind us, speaking up over the narrator as the mother capybara tended to their kids.

“‘Kay,” I distantly replied. My scalp felt so nice. “Have fun.”

“No, June. I mean _we_ , the three of us, are going out.”

I frowned, the orbit of my coins slowing to a crawl as I tried to process that. “Huh?”

“You heard me. Up. Get dressed and help Elle do the same.”

“Don’t feel like going,” I replied as my coins began to rotate a bit faster again. After all, that was that. I didn’t feel like going, and so no going. That made sense.

Something was still off though. Melanie moved to block my view of the TV, and the screen went dark. _Goodbye, capybaras. May you live a long, snake free life._

“June, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m upset,” I answered, and I was. She knew that, didn’t she? I felt a little groggy, like I was waking up from a nap. The conversation helped ground me. “Do we have to go on a walk? I’d rather not.”

Melanie tapped the TV remote against her arm as she looked down at me, and I wasn’t sure what to make of her expression. “This isn’t optional. Elle needs to take a walk, and you need to stop moping about the place.”

I blinked in confusion. “Needs to…?” I looked around and winced when I realized I hadn’t noticed the walls had shifted into stone at some point. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’ indeed,” Melanie drawled. “You, meanwhile, have been more or less living on this couch for days.”

I fished around for a moment, looking for a suitable reply that would get her to leave me alone at the very least. Then I could get back to watching capybaras. Or whatever. “Can’t we do this… um, Saturday, maybe?” _It’s Thursday, right? That should buy me a few days._

“It _is_ Saturday,” she immediately replied, looking _very_ unimpressed. “Thank you for making evident exactly why you need to get out. Now get up, or I will break that couch into pieces.”

“No it isn’t?” I half heartedly argued, not even sounding convincing to myself. I used my power to grab my phone from where it had fallen into the couch cushions and unlocked it to find…

[Saturday, October 30, 2010 12:12 P.M.]

 _Well shit_.I debated for a moment whether she would _actually_ damage the furniture over this, but in the end, I had to admit it was obvious she wouldn’t take no for an answer. I sluggishly pulled myself up into a seated position, grumbling the whole way.

“We leave in ten minutes,” Melanie warned as she turned towards the exit, a heavy metal door that nearly reached the ceiling. How had I not noticed any of Elle’s changes happening? “I’m dragging you along at that point in whatever you’re wearing. I suggest it be something other than the clothes you’ve worn the past three days.”

I lifted my arm and took a quick sniff, confirming yes, I most definitely had been wearing these clothes too long. Frankly I needed a shower too, but I didn’t doubt for a second that Melanie would make good on her threat, and ten minutes was barely enough time for the two of us to get dressed, much less do that _and_ take a shower.

“C’mon, Elle,” I murmured as I took her hand and tugged her to her feet. “Gotta go.”

As we trudged down the hallway towards our room, I noticed I felt detached, for a lack of a better word. I vaguely felt like I should be concerned, but I couldn’t piece together why. _Clothes_ , I reminded myself, focusing on what made sense. _Change clothes._

Our safe house wasn’t a dump, but it certainly wasn’t homey. The Bay had no shortage of abandoned buildings thanks to the economic crash brought about by the birth of the Boat Graveyard, or so I was told. We were in an old factory whose ground floor offices had been refurbished with some second hand furniture to make it livable. The doors on the ground floor had all been sealed shut after the furniture was put in place, and though the building was tall enough for a second and even a third floor, there weren’t any entrances or windows higher up. The only way to get in was through the sewer, but the building didn’t have a manhole like the one in the loading bay at Palanquin. Instead there was a literal hole carved from the ground floor of the building down and over to the sewer, courtesy of acid from Gregor. A ladder served for helping those among us who couldn’t fly or cling to walls get out, and some sort of tarp was draped over the hole that kept the odor at bay when people weren’t needing to pass through.

We quickly slipped into our room, and I fished some clothes out of our bags. Passing Elle hers, I said, “Gotta change.” Once she began pulling them on, I started tugging mine on as well. I got confused for a moment when I couldn’t get my head through the hole in my shirt, until I realized I had been trying to pull my pants over my head instead of my shirt.

 _I should sleep_ , I thought for the umpteenth time that week. I had been trying, and to be fair, I did succeed a bit—just not _enough_. Maybe an hour or two a night, and never all at once. Every time I tried, I was restless and caught up in my thoughts about everything that had happened. Masuyo had nearly been made into a glass sculpture, Rune had been on the cusp of choking me into unconsciousness, Victor would have certainly have crippled me if not outright killed me but for my power reflexively saving me, and Aisha…

She had betrayed me, and I had betrayed her in turn. She brought the heat by killing an unmasked Victor and Othala, and I left her behind to take the heat alone. An eye for an eye—technically equivalent but not in any way that mattered. Melanie and Gregor had reassured me multiple times that I had made the right decision, but I still felt hollow when I thought about it. How could something I regretted so much be the right choice?

“June.”

I languidly blinked. When had Melanie gotten in here? “Melanie,” I replied in kind. “Hello.”

“June, are you controlling some metal at the moment?”

“Mhm,” I affirmed. I had left my coins in the other room, not thinking to bring them along. They were still looping around and around and around. The TV was off, but they looped all the same. “What’s wrong?” Oh, I had been upset… Aisha…

She sighed. “You need some more sleep when we get back from our walk, but for now, let’s get you properly dressed.”

“I am dressed?” I asked, confused. “Is something wrong?” I shook my head. “I feel like something’s wrong.”

“Hn... Perhaps you should get that sleep now. I can take you out later instead.”

She started to steer me towards the bed, but I twisted away. “No.”

“June, you need to _sleep_.”

“I can’t!” I was angry. Why was I angry? Aisha? Yes, but no. Yes, but not this anger, not this moment. What…? Oh right. “Sleep, I can’t—” _Wait, that didn’t work English? Again._ “Can’t sleep.”

Melanie’s jaw was set, and the corners by her lips were creased from an upside down smile. I stared at them, trying to find the right word, but it wouldn’t come. “Juniper…”

Oh, that wasn’t good. Right? Yes. Full names meant things. Very upside down smile things. Compromise. “Can’t sleep, can walk. Right foot then other right foot—left is all that’s left.”

She sighed and pinched her nose. What was wrong with that? Hadn’t she wanted me to put one foot in front of the other? My feet, not Elle’s. We’d get tangled and fall, and _ouch_.

“Very well. But you must listen to what I say. Is that understood?”

I hit my eye trying to salute. That was also ouch.

Another sigh. She was leaking air at an alarming rate. “Let’s get you two _properly_ dressed first.”

“Are,” I reminded her. I gestured at Elle. “I helped.”

“Yes, I gathered as much,” she cryptically replied.

I started towards the door. _See, Melanie? I can do the two foot dance._ “Then we’re off!”

“June, come back here and let me help you change.”

I stopped, but my coins didn’t. They kept looping and looping and looping. “Why?”

“Didn’t you agree to listen to what I say?”

“Yes,” I acknowledged. My sore eye confirmed this had happened.

“Then come here. You look like you got changed in the dark. It’s not appropriate to go out like that."

I blinked and looked at the light switch. It was up. Oh, and the ceiling light was on. Could have started there. “The lights are on,” I pointed out, feeling quite reasonable.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Enigmatic.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Enigmatic,” I repeated with a grin, feeling pleased with myself. “I said, then you said, and it was _enigmatic_.”

Melanie sighed, and I looked to Elle. She was playing with a capybara in her arms, giggling as it nuzzled her chin. She got it. I could tell.

* * *

It felt good holding hands with Elle, but holding hands with Melanie was okay. I felt a bit silly, but she had insisted. And she was holding Elle’s hand with her other hand, which was good. I held Melanie, she held Elle, so I held Elle. Kind of.

“Where we going?” I asked, swinging Melanie’s arm back and forth a bit. I giggled. Mom had scolded me for that when I was a kid.

“A walk down to the park, at least. If you’re on your _best behavior_ , then we might go by the Market as well.”

“I got my beret there,” I pointed out, touching it with my free hand. I could feel the pin with my head feelers, and the fabric with my hand feelers.

“Yes, you mentioned.”

Had I? Oh right, I had. She’d said it would look nice with my skirt, and I’d said… Um… “What did I say?”

“Hm?”

“‘Nice with your skirt,’ you said, and I said…?”

“You said it would ‘not warm’ outside.”

It was. “It is,” I confirmed.

I looked up at her expectantly. Her lips twitched. “And I pointed out you would have your leggings and a jacket to keep you warm.”

I nodded. That made sense.

I resumed swinging her arm a bit, giggling again and playing with the coins in my backpack a bit too. It was fun, but Melanie reminded me I needed to keep them quiet, which was a bit silly because coins couldn’t talk.

I felt a bit better by the time we reached the park, and I quietly followed as Melanie led us to a relatively secluded bench. Elle watched the birds, and I watched the people—her especially. The walk over hadn’t been far, but the breeze was a bit brisk, so her cheeks had taken on a nice rosy tint. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail for the moment to help keep the wind from getting it everywhere, but it was nevertheless slightly disheveled. On good days, she would have been talkative even while watching the birds. Pointing them out while we chatted idly. Today was different, of course, but that didn’t mean it was a bad thing—just different.

Even with the fog lifted, it was a bit tough to recall what we had been doing. Still, I remembered enough. “Something’s wrong with me right now, yeah?” I quietly asked, squeezing Melanie’s hand.

“Feeling better?” she said, a non-answer but an answer all the same.

“Sorta. Everything’s still kinda… hazy.”

“You _have_ been using your power, yes?” she quietly murmured. The closest people were maybe fifteen to twenty yards away, but it was still a sensible precaution.

“Yeah. Yes.” I frowned. If she was asking that... “Altered?”

“Very. I frankly had not wanted to bring you along in such a state, but with everyone else out, the lesser of two evils was to have you supervised in public than left to your own devices at the safe house.”

“Makes sense.”

Neither of us said anything for a bit. I would have thought the park would be busier on a Saturday afternoon, but there were only a few groups of people other than us scattered about. Was the park normally this empty? We typically went to the one by Palanquin, so I couldn’t be sure. The busiest area was the playground, where a small handful of children were using the equipment while their parents watched from the nearby benches. The kids were obviously having a good time, laughing and running around, and as I watched them, a flash of jealousy hit me. It was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. If Mom had ever taken me to a park, then I certainly didn’t remember it.

Melanie finally broke the silence hanging between us. “How much have you been sleeping?”

“I keep thinking of her fighting me,” I quietly said. “Trying to save herself. To come back to us. Whatever she was thinking, I dunno.”

“That’s not precisely an answer to my question.”

“Isn’t it though?”

“I can extrapolate, yes, but if you have exact numbers…”

“No. I mean, I don’t really know.” I paused before admitting, “Not enough.”

“I suppose I’ll have to add sleep deprivation to our power testing, should we get any other recruits in the future,” she remarked. I glanced her way and saw some amusement slipping through the cracks of her usual, serious expression. I saw worry too, and that worried me in kind. “When we get home, you _need_ to sleep.”

“Gonna be a bit until we’re back at Palanquin.”

“I’m choosing to let that one slide, since you’re not feeling well, but you _know_ what I mean.” 

I sighed, my shoulders hunched. I did know, but what could I do? How could I sleep when I knew Aisha was probably sleeping in a cell because of me?

She let go of my hand and pulled me into a one-armed hug. I was so caught off guard by the unusual show of affection that I wasn’t sure how to respond. “I said it before, but I’ll say it again: You did the right thing.” 

It certainly didn’t feel like it, but I kept my objections to myself. She was warm, and I found myself sinking into that heat. It was weird, feeling myself begin to drift again. When we had done my power testing, I hadn’t really noticed it when I lost my lucidity, but I _did_ feel it at that moment. I was just too detached to be interested in fighting it. I had never learned to swim, so I had never been able to enjoy the beach the way others did. When I’d been younger and wanted a taste of what I couldn’t have, I had gone down to the beach and stood at the precipice of the water. The broken remnants of the waves would wash up over the sands, over my bare feet, and as they pulled away, I would sink deeper and deeper. My last night in New York, I had watched the sunset while the waves embraced my feet. Illuminated in the deep, red hues, I stood rooted in the sands of New York with dreams of coming back—of returning home.

“What Aisha did—it was wrong,” Melanie interrupted my reverie. “We don’t kill, and we don’t break the rules. Even worse, she did that in a way that looked like _you_ did it. She invited disaster on you and us in turn, so she could get what she wanted. I know giving her up to the PRT was hard on you, and I’m… You did the right thing.”

“The Bay has sand.”

“June?” Her confusion was palpable. I understood exactly what she meant, all in one word. I said four, she said one, and I was the misunderstood.

I could do better. Like her. “Beach. Sunset.”

She nodded, understanding. “I think that can be arranged.”

Two words then and understood. Much better.

I snuggled a little deeper into the warmth.

* * *

When we arrived at the Market, it was full of people, unlike the park. The areas between the stalls were very packed, and I could easily see myself getting lost. That wouldn’t be a problem any other day, nor would it be this moment, reinvigorated as I was by our walk over here. In five minutes though? Who knew.

“Okay,” Melanie started to say. “You both need to—”

My hand slipped into hers before she finished, and I looked at the ground, embarrassed. I felt like a little kid doing it, but I’d be more embarrassed if something happened when she wasn’t there.

“—hold hands with me at all times,” she continued, not missing a beat. “I’ll try to find things you two might like, but if you can, squeeze my hand to let me know we should stop. Is that acceptable?”

Elle said nothing, and when I glanced her way, I saw she was looking out over the sea of people and stalls, but she was looking at something else no one but her could see. I wondered what world it was. The Bay as it would have been without humans? Maybe a jungle filled with birds she could watch. Or a castle to match the stone walls from earlier. In any case, she wouldn’t be signaling Melanie, so I resolved to try and keep an eye out for things for her. I was doubtful of how successful I would be, but I could at least try.

Melanie took our silence as agreement, and before long, we joined the hustle and bustle.

Unprompted by me, we stopped at a stall selling clothing and jackets, and when I looked to her questioningly, she explained, “It will be winter soon, and you don’t have much if any attire suited for the snow that I’m aware of.”

It was true, so I didn’t complain as we proceeded to spend a couple hours looking through cold weather attire. I likewise didn’t raise a fuss about how much stuff Melanie picked out for me. I had been thinking about how I had more money than I knew what to do with when the Empire had attacked. When Aisha had killed—

I fervently shook my head, trying to dispel those thoughts, but they dug in like ticks, and I couldn’t dislodge them.

“You don’t like it?”

I blinked and tried to reorient myself. Melanie was holding up a light blue winter jacket with pale pink accents. “No. Yes.” I struggled for a moment then looked to Elle for help before remembering she was worse off than me right now. I turned back to Melanie and, unsure how to articulate what I was feeling, an unbidden whine escaped me.

“Is everything okay, ma’am?” someone nearby asked with a hint of confusion. Owner? Maybe. Wasn’t sure.

“Yes, of course. She’s disabled,” she smoothly lied. The maybe owner nodded sagely. Not the color or the plant—the person action. They were satisfied. 

Melanie returned her attention to me and said nothing for a moment. Puzzle pieces. Turn them, and they fit just so. “Do you like the colors?”

That was true, and I nodded. The accents matched my beret. Had she intended that? She must have. Melanie noticed things, the little things. Details. I nodded again. It was a nice jacket.

Her expression shifted. Comprehension. “You were here with Aisha on a Saturday too.”

I had needed winter clothes, but my body changed. They were gone. She gave me a beret. That stayed. I clutched at it on my head with both hands and nodded.

“We can go home and come another day when you’re feeling better,” she concluded. “You should have enough to tide you over until we can come back.”

We had to leave? That was okay. I was feeling out of sorts. Yes, she had just said that. It was true.

I found myself next to Elle hugging her, my face in her shoulder. It made me feel better, especially when she hugged me back. She gave _good_ hugs.

“Your daughters are precious,” the maybe keeper of shop remarked as Melanie pulled bills out of her wallet. “A friend of mine’s boy is the same. It’s always good to see patient parents. Some folks can’t even manage that much with their normal kids, coming in here acting like monsters and hooligans.”

“You mean non-disabled.”

I hugged Elle tighter. I wanted to go home. Wait, no. Home, but not home home. First home, then home home.

“I beg your pardon?”

Melanie closed her wallet and tucked it into the inner pocket of her jacket. “There is no such thing as ‘normal.’”

Oh wow. Mic dropped. _Boom_ pah-thoom-thoom. A floundering holder of items for purchase left behind. A fish guardian. Ocean container. Sand. _Home_.

I squeezed, and we turned. No. Not jewels with metals. I squeezed again, then we stopped altogether.

“June?”

“Tick tock, tick tock.” Hm. Time, but not specificity. Need that. How to do?

No need. “Ah, yes. I suppose it _is_ about time to get to the beach. But then we need to go home.”

I ran over to the water. Sink in, rooted. That was key.

“June! Don’t you dare go in that water!”

“Won’t!” Wait. Kind of. “Feet!”

Frigid water washed over my feet, yanking me right out of my headspace back into the moment. Holy hell, it was _freezing_. Far more important, however, was my aquaphobia decided to kick in _hard_. I lost control of the coins in my backpack and fell backwards, my arms windmilling as I collapsed butt first into the damp sand as the last of the wave retreated back into the impenetrable waters of the bay. I abandoned my bag and scrambled to my feet, trying to breath as I ran from the _drowning, choking, death_.

Melanie was sprinting towards me, kicking up sand in her wake, and I ran straight into her, burying my face in her chest as I desperately tried to get myself under control. _Safe. Not drowning. Not dying._

“What on earth were you thinking?” she asked, her voice vibrating from her chest into my head. “You better have a good explanation, or else I’m docking your pay.”

The absurdity of such a _her_ statement helped ground me, and I pulled away, a task made easy by her arms not being around me. I didn’t mind. Melanie wasn’t a hugger; she cared in other ways.

“ _Juniper_ ,” she dangerously intoned when I failed to offer up an appropriate answer.

I couldn’t meet her eyes, but I finally managed to say, “Sorry, it’s tough to explain. Sinking into the sand, I… I did that in New York. It was home, y’know?”

“You wanted to... sink into the sand?” Melanie asked, her tone making it clear she was not yet appeased.

God, it was embarrassing to admit, but she deserved an answer. “The day I left… I promised I would go back home and do it again. And… I am. Um, home, I mean.”

No words came, and eventually I braved a glance her way. She wasn’t _smiling_ —Melanie sometimes smirked, sometimes laughed, but _never_ smiled—but her expression was soft. “I see.”

Elle meandered up just as empty-handed as Melanie, and a quick glance back towards the Market showed all our bags had been dropped alongside my socks and shoes up by the stairs leading to the road.

“The sunset isn’t over yet,” Melanie pointed out as she stepped past me towards the ocean. “We can watch a bit further from the water. Make your backpack light, please.”

I obliged, and a few moments later, she handed it over to me. It badly needed to be washed, but I did too, so at least there was little further damage putting it on my back could do. Melanie held out her hand, and I quietly took it, my face burning from how disastrous this whole excursion to the beach had been.

She led us all back towards our stuff, and when we arrived, she said, “Hold hands with Elle for a moment.”

I looked at her questioningly, but she was already pressing our hands together. She knelt down and started to dig a hole in the sand. It took her a bit, since the sand was dry, and while she worked, I wracked my brain, trying to figure out _why_ she was doing it.

I was still mystified when she finally stopped and looked back at me. “Well?”

“Well what?” I asked, completely lost.

She smirked. “Are you going to get in or not?”

 _Oh_. My chest felt tight as I led Elle over and I stepped into the small hole.

“Would you like to sit or stand?”

“Standing’s fine,” I muttered as I rubbed at my eyes with my free hand. I’d gotten sand in them when I fell earlier, and they were starting to tear up.

Melanie pushed the surrounding sand down into the hole until my feet were buried ankle deep, then she stood and walked behind us, placing a hand on each of our shoulders.

I carefully looked up, and I stared at the ocean, which was burning red with the reflected light of the setting sun behind us. The fear wasn’t gone, not really, but with Faultline at my back and Elle at my side, I was able to focus on the beauty of the sight and the memories it invoked. Eventually, the colors faded away as the sun slipped behind the hills and city behind us, and I had to look down before my anxiety could get too bad.

“It’s time to go,” Melanie said. I pulled my feet out of the sand, and she guided us by our shoulders over to our bags.

I pulled on my socks and shoes and grabbed some of the bags, my eyes leaking the whole time because of that damned sand. It was really stuck in there.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I retook her hand, my eyes trained on the ground.

She squeezed my hand, and we left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the craziness of this chapter didn't lose any of y'all, 'cause the interlude next week is gonna be pretty out there too.
> 
> A big thank you to all of y'all who liked and commented! It honestly means the world to me! If you're new here, then welcome to the fun train! Buckle up, 'cause we've only got two more chapters (counting the interlude) until things get wild.
> 
> Edited 02/13/21: I'm dumb and forgot the sun sets in the west, not the east. I corrected the paragraph of everyone watching the sunset at the beach to accurately reflect this.


	38. Snare 4.y

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay with me y'all, 'cause this interlude's funky. See you at the bottom of the chapter!

I stared blankly at the orange hand for a moment, wondering when I was supposed to feel something. It always seemed instantaneous when he did it to someone else, but nothing seemed to be happening to me, strangely enough.

I shook myself from my reverie as a brisk breeze caressed me. What had I even been daydreaming about? Something about being a _mercenary_ of all things? Preposterous!

“Juniper, you’ll never be ready for the party in time if you spend all your time on that balcony,” a familiar voice said from behind me.

With one last, fond look at the sun setting over the hills west of the bay, I turned with a wide smile. “I’ll have you know, my queen, that I’ve never been late to a party in my life.”

“That does sound like you,” she acknowledged with a wry grin as I crossed over to her, the skirts of my dress gliding over the carpeted stone floors. “You’re more the type to leave _early_. And as I have ever told you, you may dispose with the formality when we’re alone, Daughter.”

I laughed, not bothering to challenge that characterization. “You know I was only teasing you back, Mother. Now tell me, have you seen Elizabeth tonight? How does she look?”

“Clothed,” she drawled. “As I expect you _both_ to remain until the party is over.”

“That sounds perfectly boring,” I harrumphed. “What’s the point of a party if not to play prelude to a night of passion?”

“Well there’s propriety for one. Someone in our family needs to make up for Aisha’s and Newter’s lack of decorum. I might also add the respect of our neighbors, or have you forgotten already that they will be our guests this evening?”

“I fear you’re looking in the wrong place for etiquette, Mother. Gregor is further down the hall,” I joked before sighing. “I suppose that bastard Chevalier will be in attendance? It baffles the mind that he thinks we would keep a prisoner of war. And where would we even secret that dreadful woman away to in the first place? It’s not as though we have dungeons to throw her in.”

“Some people cannot comprehend the concept.” Mother looked past me to the balcony and the rolling hills it framed. The last rays of the sun played across her face, casting her in a deep, bloody red. “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready.”

I watched her go with a thoughtful frown and—

* * *

—went to the party.

“Lady Masuyo of Palanquin!”

Masuyo tossed me a wave then walked in with confidence, leaving me with Elizabeth and Aisha. 

_Hm. Everyone else must already be inside,_ I thought as I drank in Elizabeth’s appearance this evening. She looked simply divine in a luxurious blue gown with small, twinkling bits of silver woven into it like stars. The colors brought out her eyes, which I was pleased to see were hungrily drinking me in just as I was her. I was sorely tempted to quit this posh gig straightaway in favor of inviting her to my bedchambers.

“Elizabeth,” I said, my mouth suddenly dry. “You look…”

“Nice?” she hopefully supplied, looking a bit nervous. That look set my heart aflutter and made the temptation to skip the party with her all the worse.

“ _Very_ ,” I emphatically agreed. “I’m not sure the words to describe how transfixing you are exist.”

Aisha pantomimed gagging, and I kicked her without looking her way. She kicked me back, and my smile widened. “Elizabeth, I was wondering if you’d like to—”

“Lady Juniper of Palanquin!”

I sighed. Duty called.

“Betcha can’t keep your eyes off her ass,” Aisha whispered far too loudly to Elizabeth behind me. I glanced back, and Elizabeth was blushingly prettily while our entirely too pleased sister seemed to be fighting to not cackle.

Well. Mother had said to maintain decorum, but there was nothing wrong with a _little_ teasing, was there? Plus, Aisha had started it. I threw Elizabeth a saucy wink before advancing into the ballroom with an extra sway in my step. I didn’t even need to look to feel the intensity of my lover’s gaze burning into me as I presented myself to court before moving to join my brothers and sister at Mother’s side.

“You look lovely this evening, Juniper,” Gregor remarked when I reached them, ever the gentleman.

“Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself,” I replied with a smile. They weren’t empty words either; he was dressed quite sharply in a well fitting gray tunic with a dark wool coat and matching trousers. Sadly most who met him thought he was monstrous. It was their loss, and I was certain he would find someone worthy of him someday. They would be very lucky indeed to be with a man of such character.

“Lady Elizabeth of Palanquin!”

“Looks like Elizabeth agrees with that assessment,” Newter snickered as our sister glided forward over the marble floor, that blush still burning hot on her cheeks. Unlike Gregor, Newter’s tunic hadn’t been buttoned up. I had a silly crush on him when Mother had first adopted me into the family, but I had gotten over it after the traveling doctor—

“Lady Aisha of Palanquin!”

I gently shook my head as Elizabeth finished reaching us, and I hooked an arm through hers. I wanted to lay my head down on her shoulder, but I resolved to try and uphold Mother’s request. Instead I raised an eyebrow at Aisha’s strut, for there was no other word to describe it, across the ballroom floor. “Aisha seems to be having a good time,” I diplomatically noted.

I blinked. It was now _me_ sashaying across the floor in her dress instead.

_Aisha…? Why—_

The me that was not me passed some representatives from the Empire, and they were abruptly impaled upon spikes of metal. I shrieked and clutched at Elizabeth.

“Murderer!” cried the Emperor, Kaiser, his voice ringing within his armor of blades. “Seize her! _Seize her_!”

“What? No!” I cried in alarm as the emperor’s knights advanced towards us, the Wolf and the Magician leading them.

Mother leaned forward to touch the ground, and crackling blue and red light burst forth from her fingertips, cleaving the room itself in twain. The Empire fell into a dark, unending pit, and to my horror, Aisha began to fall with them. I lunged forward and caught her hand, leaving her dangling over the edge. She began to slip, the blood staining her hands making them slick in my grasp.

“Aisha,” I wept. “Why?”

“They killed my brother!” she replied, her face once more her own and her expression bitter. “I had to!”

My grip on her failed, her hand too slick, and she fell into the depths and vanished from my sight. “I hope it was worth it,” I whispered into the void.

“You did the right thing,” Mother said from behind me.

I turned to her in horror. “What? No, I… I didn’t mean to let go…”

She shook her head with a pained expression. “What Aisha did—it was wrong. We don’t kill.”

“But we have!” I screamed as I surged to my feet, just barely keeping my balance on the precipice. “We just condemned her to it, can you not see it?!”

“Indeed, you have.” My head snapped to the side, and I realized Chevalier and the other representatives from the Protectorate stood with their weapons ready. The Wizard, the Sharpshooter, the Duo, the Celt… and I knew the rest of their legion would not be far behind. “Lady Juniper of Palanquin, you are wanted for the high crime of murder. Come with us peacefully. There doesn’t need to be a fight.”

Mother moved to touch the floor once more.

“Stop!”

She paused, and my family all turned to me in surprise. “Juniper?”

“Leave my family alone, and I’ll… I’ll surrender.”

“Juniper, please,” Elizabeth begged, the first words I had heard from her all night.

“You don’t have to do this,” Masuyo agreed.

I smiled. I didn’t want to smile, but I had to. I didn’t want them to remember me any other way.

“The punishment for murder is death,” Chevalier gravely pronounced as he drew his massive cannonblade and brought it to bear.

 _An eye for an eye._ I closed mine. “I’ll save you the trouble.”

I fell backwards—

* * *

—and into the cold sheets of the bed. Rose petals fluttered up in the wake of my landing.

“It’s a bit chilly in here,” I said with attempted playfulness, but my heart was only half in it. My mind was split, both here and not here. I had killed twice now—Ariel and Aisha. I didn’t deserve to be living a normal life while theirs was over.

“I think I can help,” Elizabeth answered with a small, upside down frown as slowly slipped out of her dress.

She was a vision—an angel from a heaven not intended for someone like me, who brought ruin to those I loved. What god had played with fate, moved the stars that I might end up with someone as lovely inside and out as her? Why did she stay here with me when she could be in any world she wanted?

She pulled back the sheets and climbed in, her fingertips dancing over me and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Unintentional at first but soon enough with purpose I slipped deeper. She deserved better, for me to stay, but it was _easier_ underneath. My own private elsewhere.

Her fingers slowed. The Birdhumps remained. Little worlds, brought to life in me by her touch—she was _magic_.

“Juniper? Are you okay?”

She took my hand. Concerned? I’m not. I have my Elizabeth here. Why then? I wasn’t talking. Yes, but also no. Other word. Respondersive? I shook my head. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she whispered. Her fingers cavorted no more. _Goodbye, fowllumps_. No ballroom for nails, but she was warm, and I snuggled a little deeper into the warmth. “It makes sense. Tonight _was_ bad.”

I nodded, rubbing against. Hair tickled my nose. Her bad days, my bad days. Back and forth, blue and red, yin-yang, sun and moon. A balance atop a family. If it should falter, still we’d be caught.

She gently brushed the hair away, and my nose stopped its wiggling. “Where?”

“Where?” she repeated.

“Where,” I confirmed. “Anywhere. Only need you.”

She hugged me tighter, and the feeling of hot sand swelled beneath me as the smells of salt and humid air tickled my nose. My toes wiggled in the sand, and I emerged from my underneath. Cautious. It hurt, but Elizabeth made it better—bearable. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Her fingers resumed carding through my hair, and I leaned into the touch. Ariel, Aisha—they were falling, _dead_. The urge to submerge altogether grew strong, but I resisted. For now.

“I _want_ to.”

We held each other in a world of her design. Seagulls flew by, and crabs stalked the sands, but none bothered us in our private little bubble. The sun hung eternally over a horizon with no water, yet the smells of the ocean surrounded us all the same.

“I… I love you.”

My breath hitched. “… why?”

“Why?”

“Yes… _Why_?”

I frowned, and though I was unable to look at her, I _felt_ her smile in a way I didn’t understand. The yin to my yang. 

“Because you’re you.” It was cheesy, but it was her, and I loved her all the more for it. 

I loved her. I didn’t say it back. I _wanted_ to but couldn’t. But I squeezed her hand, and I felt her smile widen. An angel I didn’t deserve.

I would try to deserve her.

The sun finally began to descend in earnest, burning on its journey behind our world. Disappearing into the ground like—

* * *

—our kingdom, burning to ash.

A mighty roar pierced the night, giving voice to the bringer of a poison that turned lives to cinders. More voices rose in answer, intermixed with the crackling of wood. Fear and panic, but also courage and determination. Our people, and the guards sworn to defend them.

“Mother, please,” I said to her as she examined the events unfolding on the grounds below the castle tower. “He is here for _me_. I cannot allow our people to suffer when there is something I can do about it.”

“All is not lost,” she disagreed. “I know a spell that will hold the Dragon and his forces at bay. We need only buy time for my wizards to cast it. Be patient, Daughter.”

I glared at the floor in frustration as I bowed. “As you will, Mother.”

“Assemble our forces.”

With a thought, the warning bells rang at my command. All through the kingdom and castle they echoed, serving both to summon my family and to herald our coming to those who threaten us and ours. I watched the door with impatience as we assembled. I, the Meteor, was first alongside our Queen, Melanie, the Faultline. Next came Newter, the Chemist, and soon after my beloved Elizabeth, the Labyrinth. Thereafter Gregor, the Snail, arrived together with his right hand, Masuyo, the Squire.

Our war council began.

Queen Faultline spoke. “Snail?”

“Evacuation of our people beyond the inner walls has begun. I destroyed the main entrances of the outer walls as well, but the enemy will only be slowed, not stopped.” My brother may have been a gentle soul, but when he answered the call, he would do what was needed.

“Squire?”

“The Guard is manning the inner wall gates, and our archers stand ready to rain iron upon them. I have also verified the apparatuses for alerting Meteor to seal them were in working order.” Though she did not have the gods’ touch, my sister was yet a force to be reckoned with. Her determination was unmatched.

“Chemist?”

“Flasks of my elixir are being distributed, and I’ve checked on our emergency supplies in the tunnels. We’re ready to completely evacuate if needed.” The humors of my brother were potent indeed, and none knew the tunnels under our kingdom better than he. By his direction, our people would find safety if the necessity of abandoning our homes became apparent.

“Labyrinth?”

“Outer traps. Inner moat.” I closed my eyes, doing my best to shut out the mental image of so much water being close by. A poor day for my love meant her influence was great. Fortuitous under the circumstances, yet that did not stop me wishing her better days to come. The closer she got to the gods, the further she was from us.

“Fighter?”

My eyes flew open in a panic at that moniker—

* * *

—and Octavia grinned down at me.

_No… No no NO!_

“You missed me. Admit it.”

“I did,” I agreed with a snarl. “I missed the chance to _cut your goddamn head off_ , you foul witch!”

“Look left.”

I looked left.

“Look right.”

I looked right, tears streaming down my face.

I followed her directions as she gave them, helpless to resist. Before long, the final order came. “Choke yourself.”

I did. I wanted to _die_. Anything was better than being under her spell once more. 

“There, see?” she said, condescendingly patting me on the shoulder. “And to think you believed you had escaped, silly! Now, stop choking yourself, and put your armor on. We have work to do.”

I let go of my throat, realization dawning on me as I looked to the armor I now noticed besides us. I reached out to the armor and put it on… 

…on _her_.

“What?! St—”

I crushed the helmet, and her head within it.

A river of red flowed down her lifeless—

* * *

—corpse, just one of many nearby. I knelt down and examined the barbaric wounds inflicted upon it as closely as I could stomach. It had been savaged, covered in a myriad gashes that all doubtlessly contributed to the deceased’s ultimate death. Bones seemed to be broken in several locations, but more noticeably, some of the larger bones had been removed altogether through cuts in several areas that were larger than the rest. The skin at those sites laid unnaturally flat like a deflated balloon of flesh.

“Penny for your thoughts, Juniper?”

“I think you’ll find my general impression mirrors your own,” I replied. “Whoever inflicted these horrors on these villagers is a monster.”

“We are indeed of a mind.”

I looked over my shoulder to Masuyo, whose eyes were averted. “We’re certain it’s him?”

“There is no doubt. Even the Dragon and his ilk would not sink so low. Desecration of the dead, especially in this manner, suggests the work of your father’s agents.”

I had never considered him my father, but I knew what she meant. I stood and signaled to the nearby guards to begin preparing them for burial. The dead rested, but work was yet demanded of the living. “I imagine he comes for me.”

“‘Tis well known he seeks no excuse for the atrocities he and his perpetrate, but… I agree it is likely he comes for you.”

“How did he find me?” I asked as I gave us flight to leave the village. “I’ve… changed since when I lived with Mom. I would have thought the trail would have gone cold.”

She scowled, an expression I almost missed in my focus. “But she is known as mine. I may have unwittingly led you to him.”

“Unwitting, perhaps. You know I would hold no—”

My eyes widened as I felt several legions of arrows soaring through the air towards us. I yanked us to my side, and though the iron still rained down on us, I diverted all that might have struck true. _What? Ah, of course._ “It seems he is quite the necromancer. He brought a dead trail to life, and now he makes a trap of the deceased.”

I tore the arrowheads from their hafts and forged them anew into bells, which I set to ringing as I directed them towards the castle. Hopefully we would have backup soon. In the meantime, however, _we_ would have to hold the line. Were his prey to escape the snare, I had no doubt my father would butcher some other village to spite us.

Perhaps I was prophetic, since the next volley of arrows flew not towards us but away from us towards a small farm I could just barely make out from here. I could not grab them at this range. Was that intentional? How could he have learned my limits?

I flew us forward as swiftly as I could to try and save the farm, which of course put us on an intercept course with the platoon of his soldiers. They would not be able to reach us up here, but his plan thus far had been keen, so I held myself ready for anything. It seemed our haste would prove worthwhile as we swiftly closed the gap, but to my shock, there was no metal in the arrows! Worse yet, we were now close enough that I could properly see the farmer’s family as they were struck.

“Juniper…?” Masuyo asked, well acquainted with my reach.

“I felt nothing,” I said through clenched teeth. “I had no purchase upon them.”

“Lady Juniper, the Meteor of Palanquin!” a voice bellowed from below us. I checked for metal armor, that I might end this immediately, but there was none. They must have fired every steel-tipped arrow they had with their opening gambit. The level of planning was astounding. “We have hostages. Come down to discuss terms.”

The bells I had made earlier had fallen outside my sphere of influence in our mad rush forward, so I was limited to the armor and weapons upon mine and Masuyo’s persons. I cursed and swore I would be better prepared next time.

For now though, we had no choice but to play their game.

We floated down, and it quickly became apparent their claim of hostages were true. Daggers of hewn bone were held at the throats of children, who must have been taken from the village in the midst of their massacre earlier. The barbarians were clothed in bone and leather without studs, held together by tightly wound bolts of cloth.

“That’s close enough!” A woman with blue warpaint adorning her face yelled. “Move over there—” she gestured to a rock outcropping nearby “—or the children die.”

Bone would not cut on the same level as steel, but I had little doubt these bastards could use them to kill mere children before I could stop them. “There’s no need to do anything rash,” Masuyo called out before looking at me. “Juniper?”

I nodded and slowly moved to comply. Once we were in place, the woman I presumed to be their leader said. “Strip yourselves of your equipment and hurl it out of your reach. We will know if you plan trickery.”

I pretended to oblige, stripping Masuyo and I of all but the clothes we wore beneath our armor for comfort, but I moved the metal only to the very edge of my reach. I could bring it around behind them or perhaps move it underground. As long as they had no one in their company who could detect danger, it—

The barbarians began to part like water around a rock as a man stepped forward. I was wrong to think the woman in warpaint their leader, for none other than the man who gave birth to me, Sir Klaus II, emerged from his band of barbarians. I trembled to think what my life would have been like, had this _knave_ raised me.

“Hello, Daughter. It has been—”

As he passed by the woman in warpaint, she put a bone dagger through his throat.

I stared in shock as blood ran down—

* * *

—my father’s throat, his shirt absorbing all the sweat.

“See, little one? Do you see what I did here? Do you remember what this is?”

“Um…” I tilted my head. “You mixed ‘em. That’s a… a…” I whined, looking up to him imploringly when the name just wouldn’t come.

He smiled patiently. “You’re right, I _did_ mix them. It’s called an alloy.”

“Why?”

“Why is it called that, or why did I do it?”“Yes!”

That earned me a laugh, and I giggled as well. “I confess I don’t know why it’s _called_ that. Maybe your Mama would know? But it’s done because some metals become _better_ when they’re combined. Perhaps they’re stronger, or they don’t rust, or—”

“But they’re the same parts,” I asked, not understanding. “How do they get _better_ than they were before?”

“Do you remember what I showed you yesterday?”

These words I remembered. “Annealing and tempering!” I chirped. “You heat ‘em up, and you let them cool!”

“That’s right,” he praised, ruffling my hair. “And do you remember the difference?”

“Um… How hot and how long they cool?”

“Those are the basics, yes,” he said with a nod of approval. “Annealing you heat up to a hotter temperature, and you let it cool for longer, like leaving it in the forge and slowly reducing temperature. Tempering you heat it up to a hot temperature—but not quite as hot!—and you cool it a bit faster by leaving it out in the air. Make sense?”

My brow knit together. “Anneal hotter and slower, temper hot and airy?”

He guffawed at my abbreviated explanation, and I found myself giggling along with him.

“That’s a serviceable explanation. Listen to what I teach you, and you’ll be a blacksmith in no time! Swords, axes, armor—you name it, you’ll make it!”

I yawned.

“Oh ho, I’ve bored you, have I?”

“Nuh uh!” I denied, pouting a bit as my eyelids drooped. “Just a bit tired.”

“Alright, off to bed with you,” he said as he plucked me up. He held me tight as we left the forge, and I snuggled a little deeper into his warmth when the far colder air outside washed over me. He took me into our house and drew a bath, then he helped me clean myself and towel dry. I wanted to help, but I felt… strange. Like I was getting sleepy but more awake.

“You did good today,” he said as he tucked me into bed and ran his fingers through my hair, just like I liked it.

“Did I?”

“You learned a lot, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” I agreed with a yawn, leaning into his touch.

“You’ll learn more tomorrow.”

“‘Kay.”

“If you stay determined and get a little better each day, you’ll be surprised at how far you’ll go.”

“I’ll be better?” I slurred. I thought he might not understand.

He did. “You’ll get much better,” he agreed.

“Love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, little one. Now, are you ready to wake up?”

 _What…?_ I sluggishly opened my eyes in confusion. _Wake up…?_

“June?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno if any of y'all live out in Texas or any of the other states hit hard by the winter weather, but if you are, then my thoughts are with you!
> 
> This interlude is obviously unique, since it's kind of June's POV but isn't at the same time. It was lots of fun to write because there are tons of references to both things that have happened and have yet to occur sprinkled throughout. Have fun finding them all!
> 
> Next week's chapter is already mostly done because I've been pushing hard this week to try and build up a buffer instead of flying week to week by the seat of my pants. We'll see how long it lasts, but the hope is to maintain at least a one week buffer, though I'd like to build up to two weeks. Wish me luck!


	39. Snare 4.8

“Looks like she’s still sleeping. Starting to get a bit worried.”

“You have the most medical training. What do you recommend?”

“Honestly? With how much sleep she lost in the week leading up to this, I’m not _surprised_ she’s still resting. It’s just not great. We’re not at the point we need to do a line into her or anything, if that’s what you mean, though I still recommend we keep a bed pad under her after she soiled the sheets. For now, at least, we only need to worry about her sleep schedule being really out of whack when she finally wakes up.”

“Tha righ’?” I said, sleepily slurring the words as I slowly pulled one eyelid open. I hissed a bit at the light in the room, but it abated when a shadow fell over me. I hadn’t properly seen who was in the room, but Masuyo and Melanie had been speaking, so at least they were here.

“Well speak of the devil, and she’ll wake up,” my cousin joked. “How do you feel?”

“Mouth’s dry.” I tried to wet my mouth with my tongue, but I might as well have rubbed used sandpaper against my inner cheek for all the good it did. I rubbed at my eyes and found a lot of grit and grime around them. Cracking them open wide enough to properly see, I saw Elle was in the room as well. She sat in a comfy armchair, and though she had a book on her lap, she was staring at the door. Melanie, meanwhile, was leaning against the wall by the door, looking perturbed.

I struggled to sit up, and Masuyo helped me up. I was shaky. I’d been having such a _weird_ dream.

“What was the dream about?

I tilted my head. Aloud? “Water.”

“Your dream was about water?”

I shook my head. “ _Thirst_.” 

“Oh, I have some right here.”

A water bottle was placed in my hands, and I put it in my mouth. Ew, plastic. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Here, hang on, let me just… Okay, here you— Wait, geez, drink slower!”

I was getting wet, but _water_! I greedily gulped and gulped until gulping got me no more. I squinted at it, turning it around and around in my hands, but no more, all gone. “Mouth’s better,” I chirped.

Masuyo looked over her shoulder at Melanie. “I take it this is the behavior you were describing?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, pushing off the wall to move over and join us. She sat on the bed next to me, and I happily leaned into her. Masuyo made a weird sound and covered her mouth, but her eyes danced the happy dance, so I didn’t worry.

“Are you using your power?” Melanie asked. She didn’t sound happy, so I hugged her. Hugs made things better, right? “ _June_ , I asked you a question.”

It didn’t work. Why didn’t it work? Elle hugs always made _me_ happy. Was a Junebug hug no good?

Masuyo made another strange noise, but Melanie spoke over her, “June, I need to know the answer. Now, please tell me if you’re using your power.”

I looked down at my lap and pouted. “No…” 

She pulled some coins from her pocket, and dropped them in my hands. I stared at them, transfixed, and she said, “I need you to.”

I almost did, they spoke to me and demanded to spin and twirl, but when I reached out to them, I remembered _yelling and screaming, eye for an eye_. I whined and dropped the coins.

“June?”

I shook my head. Vehemently. “It makes me _sad_.”

“June, this is important.”

My stomach growled, and I poked it. Rude, interrupting conver-talking. “Hungers.”

Masuyo and Melanie shared a look. Pzzzahp! Stare down of the M’s! M versus M! I giggled.

“How about you move some coins if we get you food?” Masuyo offered. She smiled, but it had no happy behind it this time.

I pondered that before nodding. “Coins for Fugly’s.”

“I had meant something homemade…” she hesitantly replied.

“Coins for Fugly’s,” I repeated. It was a good deal. Not the eye kind. I didn’t like that kind _at all_.

“Okay, okay, I can get that.” She looked to Melanie. “Would you like something too?”

“Please. Something for Elle as well,” she replied without turning to face Masuyo. Her eyes were on me, and she had the _braining_ look.

“Right on. I’ll check in with the boys before I head out. Be right back.”

Masuyo left, and a moment later, Melanie stood. “Girls, I need to make a call. Come with me, and let’s see if Gregor will look after you.”

Elle closed her book and slipped to her feet, but I said, “Don’t need no lookin’.”

“June.”

“I don’t!”

“June,” she said in her serious voice, which meant bad things. “I need you to listen to me.”

I looked away, abashed. “Am I in trouble…?”

She walked over and gently turned my head back to her. She gave me a look, and though it was stern, it wasn’t unkind. “No, not yet. But you will be if you don’t do what I ask you to. It’s important you listen, understand? You’re not in your right mind, June, and I’m trying to take care of you.”

I bit my lip. I didn’t understand, but I trusted Melanie. If she said it was important, it must be. “O-Okay. I’ll be good.” I carefully stood, feeling a little wobble dobbles. Melanie moved to help me keep my balance, and I latched onto her arm.

Together, the three of us left the room and made our way to the living room. Newter was lounging in his personal armchair and watching the image rectangle, but Gregor was nowhere to be found.

“Newter, do you know where Gregor is?” Melanie asked, drawing his attention from the moving picture.

“Said he was going to the kitchen,” he confirmed before glancing at me. “Hey there, sleeping beauty! You were out for a long time.”

I tilted my head, not beneathstanding. “But I was inside?”

“Huh?”

“You said out, but I was in. They’re opposites!”

“June, Newter was trying to say you were asleep for a long time.”

“Oh. Was I?”

“You were asleep for well over a day, yes.”

“That’s silly,” I pointed out, feeling quite reasonable. “Night is for sleeps unless busy. Day is for naps, but only when I gotta.”

“Dude, what’s up with June?” Newter asked, looking just as not beneathstanding as me.

“She’s in a fugue. My hope,” she gave me a look that said something without the word-y words, “is this won’t be an on-going thing, but we may need to discuss it later.”

“Coins for Fugly’s,” I reminded her, in case she had forgotten. She might have. That was a whole room and minutes ago. “Cuz said she’d get it. I want a cheeseburger with lotsa tots ‘n’ a milkshake.” A thought occurred, and I made a face before adding, “Separate. Not on burger. That’s _gross_.”

“I’ll be certain she knows not to mix your food together,” Melanie drawled while Newter snickered uncertainly.

“Geez, I’d kinda forgotten about the fugue thing. I’m so used to her carrying around that bag of coins.”

“Coins for Fugly’s,” I repeated, looking up to Melanie. “You promised!”

“I did promise,” she agreed, shooting Newter a look. “Now, come with me to find Gregor.”

The kitchen was a few doors down and had been fashioned out of the old break room. The usual office fare were present, though the coffee machine looked significantly nicer and probably wasn’t the original one. Several items like a portable stove and large multi-purpose cooker had been put in place to provide extra utility, and a large table that could seat eight took up a good chunk of the room that wasn’t dedicated to cooking.

Gregor was laying out ingredients by the cutting board but looked up when we came in. “Ah, Juniper. I am glad to see you awake at last.”

“Hi, Gregor!” I chirped. “We’re gettin’ Fugly’s.”

“I heard,” he remarked with a smile. I did it back. That’s what you did if you liked someone and they showed you their chompers.

“I need you to watch the girls a bit for me.”

The skin over his eyes pinched together. “May I ask why? I do not mind, but I do not understand the necessity.”

“June is purposefully staying in a fugue by not using her powers. She said it makes her ‘sad.’ I’m going to call Dr. Drovanch about an appointment for her.”

Gregor looked at me in concern, and feeling embarrassed, I turned and hid my face in Melanie’s side. It wasn’t my fault the coins were bad! Coins for Fugly’s, that was fair!

“I see. Very well, I will look after them.”

Melanie thanked him and carefully extracted me from her arm before slipping out. I still felt out of sorts, so I latched onto Elle’s arm instead, but I couldn’t hide as well, since we were the same height. Elle’s book dropped to the ground from her fingers, and she began to run her fingers through my hair. Gregor moved over to us and bent over to pick up the discarded book.

“Ah, one of your bird watcher books,” he noted with a small smile. “Would you two like to read this together at the table, perhaps?”

Elle nodded, and I almost did too, but then I remembered Gregor would be cooking and got curious.

“What’cha makin’?”

“You may come take a look for yourself,” he suggested, handing Elle her book. “Elle, why don’t you read, and I’ll take Juniper for now?”

She sat and opened it to a random page without looking and stared vaguely in its direction. Gregor gently took my hand and led me over to the cutting board instead. Now that we were over here, smells began to waft into my smeller, and my tums growled in reply. I poked it again—so rude, an interrupting interrupter—and I looked up to Gregor in confusion, my earlier embarrassment forgotten. “We’re gettin’ Fugly’s. Why’re you cooking?”

“What do you see in these ingredients?” he cryptically responded. I hummed as I looked at them intently. Huh. It wasn’t working. I reached for a knife, and Gregor gently caught my hand. “Juniper? Why did you try to grab the knife?”

“Can’t see inside them! If it goes choppy, thenI can see inside,” I sagely replied.

“I see. I would rephrase my question then. When you look at these ingredients, what do you believe I’m making?”

“Food!” I confirmed. That much was obvious. Silly Gregor!

He chuckled. Even he thought he was silly! “Indeed. And what food could I use these ingredients to make?

“ _Ooooooh_ ,” I breathed out. Why hadn’t he just asked that to start? 

I checked the ingredients. That was for warding off vampires, and that was for crying. Those were green beans that were red, and those were the same but only in the dark. Those animal bits ‘n’ bobs were red now but wouldn’t be when cooked, but the balls were red and would stay that way when cut. Powder and powder, neither for chowder. I picked up one of the un-green beans and some of the other un-green beans and put them together. I knew this. Puzzle pieces. Turn them, and they fit just so.

“Chili!” I excitedly declared with a grin.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a smile. “And good chili takes a long time to cook. We do preparation now, so we may eat later.”

That made sense. “That makes sense,” I informed him. I pressed the not-green beans against the root of tears and the vampire repeller to make chili, but nothing happened. Oh right, Gregor said it takes a while. Silly June. I left one bean on each and started to reach for the red bits and bobs.

“Juniper, do you know what I do when I’m sad?”

I paused, my face going all bunchy as I tried to remember. “Never seen you sad.”

“On the contrary, you have seen me sad several times.”

I put down the ingredients and looked at him. Chili mysteries needed to wait. Gregor mystery first. “When?”

“The night you moved in with us you fought with your cousin, and that made me sad. Later, you were afraid of being rejected and abandoned, and that made me sad as well.”

I felt something in my noggin, but it slipped away before I could ask it what it was. “You were sad?”

“Yes. I was also sad when you were hurt in Providence and when you were taken away in Philadelphia.”

There it was again. _Excuse me, what_ — It slipped away again! “Oh. I’m sorry I made you sad.”

“You did not make me sad, Juniper. I was sad because you were hurt, and you are my teammate. Now, do you remember what I asked you?”

Again. Again again _again_. Stop it, skull squirmer! Go bug somebody else! I shook my head to get it out, but it was stuck. “N-No?”

“I asked if you knew what I do when I’m sad.” Melanie was back, but I was heavy, and Gregor was talking. “Do you know?”

I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it _at all_. “P-Please stop. I don’t w-wanna be the b-big sad!”

He told me anyway. “I try to make things better. Sometimes I can’t, but knowing I tried helps. Knowing I did _my best_.”

Metal around me began to shake. The knife on the cutting board, the microwave, the portable stove, the fridge, the— It _hurt_! Stop it! Stop it stop it stop it!

I thought of Aisha in a ruined kitchen. She talked me down when nobody else could, and I abandoned her.

“No!” The metal in the room stopped shaking, and I grabbed at my head as I fell to my knees. “Don’t break things, no excuse, no excuse! Stop, I just— Coins!”

The coins were in our room. I could feel them. I made them _spin_ , around and again. Gregor was on the floor with me, and I clutched at him as a sob tore its way out of me. It hurt. It hurt _so much_ , and I wanted it to stop. I had hurt him too. Hurt him because I messed up. That made it _worse_ , and I… could make it go away. All I had to do was let the coins go, to sink away. I didn’t have to hurt. Nobody had to. It didn’t have to be like this.

I just needed to let go.

“I am here for you,” he said, pulling me against him and back from the brink. “Teammates do not abandon one another.”

“I did! I _abandoned_ her!” I wailed.

“You stood by her until the end, then it was _you_ who was abandoned,” he disagreed, his chest rumbling as he spoke. “You were put in a place you should never have been placed. Made a choice that no one should have to make.”

I kept crying. The coins kept spinning.

I didn’t know what to say, and he was content to let me weep, even though I had to be ruining his shirt. Eventually I had no more tears to give, but I clung tight anyway, and he let me. We stayed there until Masuyo finally returned with Fugly’s. The smell reminded me I was _ravenous_ , and with a sniffle I pulled away.

My knees hurt from kneeling for so long, but Gregor didn’t seem bothered and helped me walk over to the table. Masuyo was sorting through the bag and doling it tall out while shooting us glances that wavered between worried and confused.

“Sorry you couldn’t get started on the chili,” I mumbled as he helped me into the seat between him and Elle.

“We have a pressure cooker as well, so I will adjust my plans,” he replied, unworried. “Would you like to help me after lunch?”

“Yeah.” I helped Elle unwrap her burger, and once she was eating, I turned to him to give him a smile. It wasn’t a very good one, or so I thought, but it was what I had to give. It must have been enough because he smiled back.

“God, I’m starving!” Newter loudly declared as he strolled into the room with his hands behind his head. He paused when he saw my red eyes and seemed to suddenly notice the somber mood of the room. “Wow. Usually people only cry _after_ eating Fugly Bob’s. You know, when the heart burn kicks in.”

“Newter!” Masuyo started to scold only to stop when wetly laughed.

“Ass,” I weakly retorted, still feeling very out of sorts.

“Eh, I’ve been called worse,” he replied with a grin before leaping to the ceiling and crawling over to his seat at the far end. “You’re gonna have to step your game up.”

I shoved the metal cap of the glass pepper shaker up his nose, and he sneezed violently, sending it rocketing out of his nose and a cloud of pepper to hang over the area around him.

“You’re pure evil,” he informed me, though he said it with a grin.

We all ate together, and by the time we were done, I felt the tiniest bit better. It was a start.

* * *

I stared at my phone for a moment, confirming I had typed the number in correctly, and breathed out a weary sigh. It was a struggle to continue making the coins lazily drift in a circle on the ceiling and not sink away.

Elle squeezed my hand, and I gave her a grateful smile. It was so sweet that on bad days she still unconsciously thought to do things like that.

“I don’t want to have this conversation,” I confessed. “I still feel awful, and it’s gonna be awkward as hell on top of that. Like, what do I even say to her? ‘Oh hey, it seems like you maybe have the hots for me, but I’m taken!’ Uuuugh.”

Elle, unsurprisingly, didn’t have anything to say to that, but she did squeeze my hand again. I wanted to push back calling Amy, but I’d delayed far too long as it was. I should have called her when we got back into town, but then the whole thing with Lung had started, and it had all snowballed from there. I needed to do it today, and if I waited any longer, it’d be so late in the evening she might not pick up at all.

 _Fuck my life_ , I thought with another sigh as I forced myself to tap the dial button. The line clicked to life, and the flight of my coins a bit agitated as I listened to it ring twice before Amy picked up.

“Hey! One sec, just going up to my room for privacy.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Sure.” It was strange, hearing her voice after all this time. We had only met once, and that whole day had been one gigantic, hectic mess. Despite that, it was no exaggeration to say she changed my life, and she and her voice were consequently seared into my memory.

There was a brief bit of muted noise in the background that made it sound like she was either running up or down a flight of stairs that was followed by the more distinct sound of a door shutting. “Okay! I’m good now,” she said, huffing a little bit. “How’re… how’re you doing…?”

I stiffened. “Um… well…”

“Oh. Oh shit, I am _so sorry_. I—I shouldn’t have said that. _Obviously_ you’re not doing okay, you— shutting up. I’m shutting up. Sorry!”

I pulled the phone away from my face and stared at it for a second. This was definitely the right number, and it was the right voice on the other end, but what had happened to the pragmatic girl I’d met on the roof? I thought the quirky rambling from our private messages had just been us feeling each other out, but _wow_ , she really was acting completely different now.

“Meteor?”

“Sorry, I’m here,” I said, bringing the phone back to my face. I’d have to think more on it later. “And yeah. Things have been… not so great. But we’re… managing.”

“We?”

“Labs and I. And that’s… we need to talk about that.” Goddammit, I’d meant to throw in a bit more casual chat first. Holy shit this was awkward. “See, your messages, they, uh, kind of gave us the impression you were… _attracted_ to me.”

“I’m so sorry! I, uh, _am_. Attracted, I mean.” There was a beat of silence, then she scrambled to add, “T-That doesn’t have to mean anything though! Sorry, I’m probably making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?”

 _YES!_ “No, it’s… um, _flattering_ , but…” _Okay, fucking hell, June. Stop dancing around it and just_ say _it! Rip the bandage off!_ “Y’see, it makes Labs jealous ‘cause we’re _together_.”

“… what.”

I blinked. It honestly sounded like I had broken her. “We’re together,” I slowly repeated.

“L-Like…” She failed to complete the thought. 

_Yikes. Getting more awkward by the second…_ “Like, she’s my girlfriend, I’m hers? That kind of together.”

“But I… you… this wasn’t supposed to happen…”

 _‘Supposed to happen?’ What did she think we were meant to be or something? Why would… oh. Shit, did she think I’d fall for her because she helped my transition? How does that saying go—quid something...?_ Fuck, if that was the case, I needed to rectify that line of thinking immediately. I _did_ owe her as far as I was concerned, but she needed to understand I wouldn’t do _anything_ just because she asked—like being her girlfriend. 

“ _Anyway_ , I just wanted to clear that up and to properly thank you for helping me with my transition. Like, I know it was a deal, but I still feel like I came out ahead. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you, then let me know, and I’ll see if I can make it happen, okay?” There. That was appropriately vague and noncommittal.

“Friends,” she faintly replied. “Y-Yeah. I’d... I would l-like that.”

“So… we’re cool?”

“Yes! Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

Yeah, I was 95% sure I was on the right track. At least she was taking the rejection well and not going to be pushy about it. I really _did_ want to be friends, so I did my best to push past the awkwardness, so we could chat about normal topics. 

“Well good. I, um, don’t really want to talk about any of the fucked up shit that’s been happening, but we could talk about something else.” I fished around for a topic for a second before adding, “How’s Vicky? You said she’s taking you coming out well, right? How was that double date?”

She laughed awkwardly. “It was better, but not good? Like, it’s good Vicky’s being understanding, but there’s just something inherently weird and uncomfortable about blind dates.”

“I bet. But hey, at least that’s a weight off your chest, right? Being in the closet, I mean.”

“Y-Yeah. Hey, uh, Dad’s calling me, so I gotta go okay? I’ll text you later!”

“Oh, sure, no problem. By—” The line was already dead.

 _Well that was excruciating_ , I thought as I slipped my phone back in my pocket. _I hope this doesn’t fuck up being friends..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't originally going to end here, but the third scene took on a life of its own, so it's going to either be some of or most of next week instead. For anybody who thought June's behavior from 4.7 was going away, it's here for the long haul. I will say it won't be every chapter and that there's a good, story reason for it (beyond what y'all already know), but that's all I'll say on the matter...
> 
> Nobody took me up on hunting down clues in 4.y, which was a little disappointing! I'll spoil one aspect of it, just because I'm itching to say it: The last two scenes name drop every planned arc except the final arc and the epilogue arc. To sweeten the pot, if somebody correctly names every arc in order, then I'll spill the two names that weren't hidden in the chapter.
> 
> Quick update about the above challenge: I mentioned at one point that there are going to be 12 arcs total counting the epilogue. All said, that means there are *6* arc names hidden in the chapter, and I'll also note that the references are in order. A reader here already correctly identified the sixth arc, Alloy, already.


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